I know that you wrote a fictional tale, but was it necessary to write this:
And armed white supremacist militias were patrolling the neighborhood, often beating up minorities and other people they deemed suspicious while the police looked the other way, as they were just overwhelmed.
Here's a suggestion:
Armed militias patrolled the neighborhood, while the police looked the other way. They were overwhelmed.
These are just suggestions, mind you, but I think that they would benefit your piece.
I love how you explore the different kinds of poetry and provide a complete explanation about what it is supposed to be.
I always read poetry aloud and I had to giggle about the difference in the way I talk compared to others. Even though I have lived in many states, now that I'm an old lady, I'm slipping into Pittsburghese. For instance, as I was reading I did not say that the word hour had two syllables.
If I force myself, I can look at the words differently, and then the syllables match the intended format.
Those few words truly saddened me. It's not that they aren't true. That's the sad part.
I'm a baby boomer, and I was taught to celebrate the successes of others. My friends were taught the same. I certainly taught my son to be the same way.
Somewhere along the line, people have decided to be envious and even angry if others do better than they do. But as your few words imply, those folks are not putting forth the effort required. Losers, as you called them.
You did a great job with this one. It's heartbreaking to think about a mother who left her spouse and child finally being scheduled to meet her child and grandchold. And then, poof. What a horrible thing for the daughter.
At least the mom spent her last moments remembering.
Some of us understood, Keaton. For example, I have a piece in my portfolio called, "Why write? Why breathe?" I started writing at age 8, sitting in my backyard cherry tree. I have notebooks filled with my writing, pages and pages of writing.
I enjoyed reading your poem aloud, your work of heart.
Indeed, memories do harbor both diamonds and rust. Your poem makes that point rather well.
I enjoyed reading your work of heart aloud. The rhythm was good, as were the rhymes.
I have a rather odd flaw myself. I often completely forget the bad memories. Perhaps it was a way for the young me to cope, but that makes me wonder what I forgot.
What a creative poem. Resolutions are something that so many choose to write, but few work to keep. Long ago, I wrote about that, suggesting that we make commitments instead.
I enjoyed reading this aloud. Your word choices were excellent.
Okay, that was one weird story. You definitely selected the cortectvgenres for it: sci-fi, fantasy and comedy. Laughing at the bizarre happenings would certainly be preferable to crying about them. My choice for food to ponder bizarre happenings would not be jelly donuts, but to each his/her own.
Now that was a reasonable discussion between a father and child. Nicely done. I can certainly identify with both of them. I was someone who played the violin in the orchestra and sang in the choir, had two siblings who played in the marching band, and had two friends who wanted to
major in music. And I have been a parent concerned about my child's future.
What a beautiful way to describe your neighbor who gives you a concert through his open window. How I envy you. To me, there is nothing more beautiful than the music of a great violinist.
I love these words that you shared:
In my mind he is a man whose soul escapes to paint moments in time. (It should say "paint", any way, without the s.)
As someone who learned how to play the violin starting in 2nd grade, I do wonder what words you might have used to describe the screeching sound of a new student.
This truly made me sad, not only for you and your family, but for today's American families, many of whom think that communism is the answer to our problems.
Like all of your other writings, this one is good. Thanks for sharing it and for making us think.
Bless your heart. I'm sorry that you didn't understand why adults found "the butt sisters" funny. Years ago, there was a song that said "one of the butt sisters" and there was a character that Carol Burnett did who was hilarious with her big butt. As for the homemade costumes, good for your mom. I loved all of the homemade costumes that my mom made for us and later for our kids. And for herself and dad in retirement. I would not have been caught dead in a store bought costume.
What a wonderful story about how the parents first met and became a couple. I wonder how many people meet their future mates because he/she responds to an emergency 911 call.
This part sounded a bit awkward:
I think my mouth actually drooped open he was so adorable.
You are a fine example of how and why to encourage others. I realized that from our first interaction. I was raised to encourage others to succeed and to celebrate with them when they do, even if that means that they beat you in the process.
You are really busy with the Disability Writer's Group. And I am glad that you are here.
I like your title. It tells me little, but makes me want to find out about The Rock.
What an interesting solution to your problem.
Usually when there is a question about property lines, both po parties want their property to be nogger.
We have a big rock that has been in front of a businedd since it was built. After a decade, someone stole it. Perhaps it was a kid's prank, because it came back.
What a great reminder about the importance of giving your time, talents and treasure. That's what my Grandma said, anyway.
I enjoyed reading your poem aloud. It flows well and the rhymes made sense.
My son recently turned 40. He told me that the best Christmases he had were the ones when we helped children in need select gifts for their parents and siblings and helped them wrap the packages.
Hey there, husband of mine, I don't know how I missed this one when you wrote it.
As usual, you did a great job, not only with your grammar, punctuation and spelling, but you also organized your thoughts quite well. These are things that we have often pondered together.
You should write on Writing.com more often. And express today's thoughts.
I found your flash fiction piece on the public reviews page, and I'm glad that I did.
Finding money is fun. Years ago, there was a gas station that I frequented and I found money on the ground near the gasoline pumps on 3 occasions. And I have found money in my own pocket on a few occasions when I dig out a coat for a different season.
What a cute story. Because of you, I paused from writing this review to catch up on my knowledge of panda bears. Thanks for that.
Your story made me want if children use their imagination like this much any more. Patents seem to shove a screen in front of them pretty quickly to entertain them.
Thanks for making me ponder such things.
Blessings,
Kenzie
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