ThirstyFountains

Split Person J. N. Cloutier      Out of breath, she stopped. Although he was gaining on her, she could not get herself to continue running. "I give up," she thought. "There's no way that he will not take me." Defeated, she turned to face her attacker. Wait.      Maybe...just maybe she could grab a stick nearby and swing it at him. It would definitely do some damage. She could knock his knees or hit his head. Possibly. It was worth a shot.      The masked man was now within a few feet of her and an evil grin played on his face. Quickly, like a squirrel frantically gathering nuts, she leap for the stick and returned to her spot. The man advanced with a greedy look. He soon reached her; she swung... .  .  .  .  .      Nicole sat up on the small couch. This dream was nothing new; it never failed to remind instill an alert feeling within the depths of her being. She could neve...

When God created woman he was working late on the 6th day....... An angel came by and asked." Why spend so much time on her?" The lord answered. "Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?" She must function on all kinds of situations, She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time, Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart, She must do all this with only two hands,"She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day" THE ANGEL was impressed "Just two hands.....impossible! And this is the standard model?" The Angel came closer and touched the woman "But you have made her so soft, Lord". "She is soft", said the Lord, "But I have made her strong. You can't imagine what she can endure and overcome." "Can she think?" The Angel asked... The Lord answered. "Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate." The Angel touch...

        If someone stepped into her room they would see a girl's form lying on her bed. If they had stopped long enough to view her more closely they would have seen a tear-stained face, surrounded by medium brown hair that spilled over her pillow. Her pillow was a brown plaid that held the words "Live," "Laugh," and "Love" on a piece of burlap. Now, did she feel like living? Absolutely; but right now, she wanted to rest her tired soul and body. Was she laughing? Of course not; horrific images tormented her. Last, but certainly not the least, did she love? Awe, the poor thing spent her days trying to make one laugh, comforting another, or serving one more. She loved as fierce as one could hate! Sometimes, it physically hurt when she was rejected that love. She felt the pain most in her heart and throat. Such pain, she could not describe except to say that it felt like a vise-like grip that threatened to consume her if she did not persevere. So she d...