WA-5 Wedding

The warm spring sun beat down on me. My xylem sap was fresh and thin from the light rains. I sucked up the water and it transpired on my light amaranth pink petals. Far off, in a beige colored room, a giddy but excessively anxious young woman sat tapping her pedicured foot as she discussed the floral arrangements with her very qualified but extravagantly lavish planner. The color palettes were strewn across the ornate desk and the woman’s eyes flickered from one set to another and then another. Finally, she puckered her Venetian red lips, inhaled a sharp quick breath and jabbed her filed nail at the custom group that read, Amaranth Pink Bouquet. “I believe this will do,” she said.

Slice. Everything disappeared. When I regained consciousness the cream colored linen lined woven basket was brimming with detached petals. I tried to peer over the side. Sunlight was streaming in through the stain glass windows depicting Mother Mary and falling down across old wooden pews. A man sat hunched over the mighty organs, practicing Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. The bride was getting dressed and so far she was wearing something old and something new. Her shoes were borrowed and she was looking for her broach that was blue. In a room on the opposite side of the church the groom and his best men were lounging around in their white tee’s obviously oblivious to the quickly encroaching time. Off somewhere the ring bearer and flower girl were playing hide and go seek, soiling their new outfits before the start of the ceremony.

The air was becoming thick with anticipation as long lost family became reunited and the chapel began to fill for the start of the service. The organs began to sing a song and the chatter fell to a hushed tone as seats began to be occupied. I was whisked off of a table and into the shivering hands of the young girl. A salty tear of fear trickled down her cheek as her mother reinstructed her and kissed her forehead. A sweet bridesmaid took the girl’s hand, led her to the door, and sent her on her way. Eyes wide, she looked down at her scuffed shoes and placed one foot in front of the other on the carpeted aisle. With each step, the basket became lighter and emptier. Sticky fingers plucked me out and dropped me mercilessly to the floor. High heel spike after high heel spike proceeded to skewer me as I lay bleeding Amaranth Pink. As the pain subsided, the music faded, and the star crossed lovers faced each other in front of the priest. From my view on the floor the group looked like a black and white cookie, V formation of geese. A bright, gaudy pair of shoes adorned with large tulips stole my attention from the vows being spoken. “I do” was said by the pair, the couple was wed, the service was over, everyone stood up, stampeded, and that was the last of my memory.

WA-4 Final Draft

Dear Mr. Obama,

First of all, I would like to congratulate you on your presidential victory and your accomplishment of becoming the 44th president of the United States of America. On top of that, being the first African American to hold that title. I am glad that this country is seeing a change, and I would love to thank you for bringing it about. Secondly, I would like to take a little bit of your time to express my wishes of what I would like to see you help this country accomplish in your first year.

The environment is very important and all of the risks that it is being faced with are a major concern to me. The abuse and neglect it undergoes simply is too much of a strain that will eventually bring about a catastrophic problem. I think that with a major effort from the government and this country’s people, our great nation can begin to set precedents for a better, cleaner world. The problem now is that there is not enough awareness and government sponsored projects. The restrictions placed on companies are very lenient and need to become more environmentally focused. Two of the major industries that I think need to re-alter their standards are that of the oil and automobile. As of now, the stipulations placed on these major, influential companies need to protect the environment far more than they do. Now that you, Mr. Obama, are president I believe that you can pass bills and make laws to help save the one and only Earth we have. Please think of that when you take office and use this quote said by the Iroquois people as something to follow: “In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.”

A controversy that most Americans have a strong feeling about is Iraq and the War on Terror. People like myself, believe that the awful war brought on by Bush has gone on for too long. However, now that he is no longer in office, this can change. We can pull our troops out for good and not meddle in business that is not ours. We can once again regain a positive connotation for our country and some of us can once again call ourselves proud americans. Family members and loved ones can come home and it is my hope that when they do, they will be treated and cared for like the heroes that they are. They have risked their lives for the protection of our country and when they return they should receive nothing but the best. Please understand that this war can be ended by you and I hope that you realize that this should be a top priority.

Please take a moment to consider the things I have said and take into account the thousands of things that you now have control over. We as citizens have placed our trust in you to not only do what is morally right but also what is best for the people, the country, and the world. Thank you for being what this country needs.

A proud citizen of the United States of America,
Olivia Levine

WA-4 2nd Draft

Dear Mr. Obama,

First of all, I would like to congratulate you on your presidential victory and your accomplishment of becoming the 44th president of the United States of America. On top of that, being the first African American to hold that title. I am glad that this country is seeing a change, and I would love to thank you for bringing it about. Secondly, I would like to take a little bit of your time to express my wishes of what I would like to see you help this country accomplish in your first year.

A major concern to me, is the risk that the environment is being faced with. The abuse and neglect it undergoes simply is too much of a strain that will eventually bring about a catastrophic problem. I think that with a major effort from the government and this countries people, our great nation can begin to set precedents for a better, cleaner world. The problem now is that there is not enough awareness and government sponsored projects. The restrictions placed on companies are so lenient that the profits that they make put no money back into paying for the negative outcomes that they create. Two of the major industries that I think need to re-alter their standards are that of the oil and automobile. As of now, the stipulations placed on these major, influential companies need to protect the environment far more than they do. Now that you, Mr. Obama, are president I believe that you can pass bills and make laws to help save the one and only Earth we have. Please think of that when you take office and use this quote said by the Iroquois people as something to follow: “In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.”

A controversy that most Americans have a strong feeling about is Iraq and the War on Terror. People like myself, believe that this awful war that we have been involved in for far too long is a war brought on by Bush. However, now that he is no longer in office or has any type of control, this can change. We can pull our troops out for good and not meddle in business that is not ours. We can once again regain a positive connotation for our country and some of us can once again call ourselves proud americans. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons, and daughters can come home and it is my hope that when they do, they will be treated and cared for like the heroes that they are. They have risked their lives for the protection of our country and when they return they should receive nothing but the best. Please understand that this war can be ended by you and I hope that you realize that this should be a top priority.

Please take a moment to consider the things I have said and take into account the thousands of things that you now have control over. We as citizens have placed our trust in you to not only do what is morally right but also what is best for the people, the country, and the world. Thank you for being what this country needs.

A proud citizen of the United States of America,
Olivia Levine

WA-4 Letter to Barack Obama

Dear Mr. Obama,

First of all, I would like to congratulate you on your presidential victory and your accomplishment of becoming the 44th president of the United States of America, and at the being the first African American to hold that title. I am glad that this country is seeing a change, and I would love to thank you for bringing it about. Secondly, I would like to take a little bit of your time to express my wishes of what I would like to see you help this country accomplish in your first year.
A major concern to me, is the risk that the environment is being faced with. The abuse and neglect it undergoes simply is too much of a strain that will eventually bring about a catastrophic problem. I think that with a major effort from the government and this countries people, our great nation can begin to set precedents for a better, cleaner world. The problem now is that there is not enough awareness and government sponsored projects. The restrictions placed on companies are so lenient that the profits that they make put no money back into paying for the negative outcomes that they create. Two of the major industries that I think need to re-alter their standards are that of the oil and automobile. As of now, the stipulations placed on these major, influential companies could account for environmental concerns far more than they do, and now that you, Mr. Obama, are president I believe that you can pass bills and make laws to help save the one and only Earth we have. Please think of that when you take office and use this quote said by the Iroquois people as something to follow: “In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.”
A controversy that most Americans have a strong feeling about is Iraq and the War on Terror. People like myself, believe that this awful war that we have been involved in for far too long is a war brought on by Bush. However, now that he is no longer in office or has any type of control, this can change. We can pull our troops out for good and not meddle in business that is not ours. We can once again regain a positive connotation for our country and some of us can once again call ourselves proud americans. Fathers, brothers, and sons can come home and it is my hope that when they do, they will be treated and cared for like the heroes that they are. They have risked their lives for the protection of our country and when they return they should receive nothing but the best. Please understand that this war can be ended by you and I hope that you realize that this should be a top priority.
Please take a moment to consider the things I have said and take into account the thousands of things that you now have control over. We as citizens have placed our trust in you to not only do what is morally right but also what is best for the people, the country, and the world. Thank you for being what this country needs.

A proud citizen of the United States of America,
Olivia Levine

WA-3 2

How do we define a word that encompasses so much?
Is it as simple as a quiet afternoon?
Does it mean finding harmony within?
The absence of hostility?
It is a mother looking into the eye's of her son?
Is it merely a state of tranquility?
How about the mind being cleared of unpleasant thoughts?
Is it the opposite of war?
Why does one word mean so much?
What price is it worth paying?
Is it more important than all justice?
Is it freedom?
Does it mean something different to everyone?
Or does it have a universal definition?
Has it changed over time?
Does it have a script to follow?
Is it the calm before the storm?
Does it come from understanding?
Is it a form of being silent and still?
What is peace?

WA-3 Rough Draft

Is it as simple as a quiet afternoon?
How do we define a word that encompasses so much?
Does it mean finding harmony within yourself?
Can you call it the absence of hostility?
It is a mother looking into the eye’s of her son?
Is it merely a state of tranquility?
Or how about your mind being cleared of unpleasant thoughts?
Is it the opposite of war?
Why does one word mean so much?
Is it finding beauty in an object as small as a flower?
What price is it worth paying?
Is it more important than all justice?
Is it freedom?
Does it mean something different to each person?
Or does it have a universal definition?
Has it changed over time?
Does it have a script to follow?
Is it finding the calm before the storm?
Does it come from understanding?
Is it a form of being silent and still?

What is peace?

WA-2 Final Draft

He stepped from his doorway and was met with the warm feeling of morning sunshine. He bent over to adjust his shoelaces. He descended the front porch steps onto the cracked, dirtied but very familiar sidewalk. From above, the sun coming through the trees cast the light into tiles as if it were converting the sidewalk into his kitchen floor. A slight breeze tousled his hair and left a secret in his ear.

As he fell into a slow sauntering pace, the sound of squirrels munching on acorns came from unidentifiable places. He let his eyes wander for a second as he slowed, searching for the source of noise. When he retired his hope of finding it he saw the curled silvery gray hair of the old lady rocking in her southern style porch swing reading Anna Karenina. She looked up from her book and raised a hand to gesture a kind salutation, no different from any other morning. Her calm disposition and serene smile was a shroud to her failing memories.

The chap continued on his way, letting his feet carry him along. A small white pamphlet flittered across his shoe. He bent down to inspect the bleeding ink. It was a lost dog poster. The words on it read, "Small, brown, and affectionate. Have you seen her?" Then as the wind had brought it, it took it away, riding on the breeze that rumpled his hair. Whispered in his ear. He issued a sigh and rocketed a black walnut into the street with a sharp kick. It shattered in the road, opened, and spilled its contents onto the warming asphalt. "The temperature is now 76 degrees with a high coming midday of 89," said a passing car's radio. Simultaneously he wiped a forming bead of sweat from his brow.

To his right, lay a broken and battered shoddy recliner ready to be whisked away by a garbage truck. He pictured the size of the man that had created the trash out of what had once probably been a nice piece of furniture. For a spilt second he thought about testing out it's stability when a baby blue robin's egg caught the attention of his eye. It solitarily lay cracked and abandoned on the sidewalk. He gently scooped it up and it lay peacefully in the palm of his calloused hand. The moment lasted until it was tossed over his shoulder and further mangled when it landed back on the concrete.

About 9 paces ahead a mural came into view, the two presidential candidates faced each other. The wall was covered with meticulously painted graffiti covering the roughly textured chipped, red schoolhouse, bricks. The boy stopped, and let his blue eyes follow the flow of bricks that had stories painted all over them. Like everything around him, there are stories to tell while others are already being told. Scenarios being peeled away from their fixtures. He turned on his heel, took a right, and emerged from his canopy of trees, his street, his sidewalk, his story, onto the main road where lines were being written as he walked, where the paths were unfamiliar. He left the breeze behind as he continued on his way.

WA-2 Final

WA-2 2

He stepped from his doorway and was met with the warm feeling of morning sunshine. He bent over to adjust his shoelaces. He descended the front porch steps onto the cracked, dirtied but very familiar sidewalk. From above, the sun coming through the trees cast the light into tiles as if it were converting the sidewalk into his kitchen floor. A slight breeze tousled his hair and placed a soft whispered secret into his ear.

As he fell into a slow sauntering pace, the sound of squirrels munching on acorns came from unidentifiable places. He let his eyes wander for a second as he slowed, searching for the source of noise. When he retired his hope of finding it he saw the curled silvery gray hair of the old lady rocking in her southern style porch swing reading Anna Karenina. She looked up from her book and raised a wrinkled and blue-green veined hand to gesture a kind salutation, no different from any other morning. Her calm disposition and serene smile was a shroud to her failing memories.

The chap continued on his way, letting his feet carry him along. A small white pamphlet flittered across his shoe. He bent down to inspect the bleeding ink that composed a lost dog poster. The words on it read, “Small, brown, and affectionate. Have you seen her?” Then as the wind had brought it, it took it away, riding on the breeze that rumpled his hair. Whispered in his ear. He issued a sigh and rocketed a black walnut into the street with a sharp kick. It shattered in the road, opened, and spilled its contents onto the warming asphalt. “The temperature is now 76 degrees with a high coming midday of 89,” said a passing car’s radio. Simultaneously he wiped a forming bead of sweat from his brow.

To his right, lay a broken and battered shoddy recliner ready to be whisked away by a garbage truck. He pictured the size of the man that had created the trash out of what had once probably been a nice piece of furniture. For a spilt second he thought about testing out it’s stability when a baby blue robin’s egg caught the attention of his eye. It solitarily lay cracked and abandoned on the sidewalk. He gently scooped it up and it lay peacefully in the palm of his calloused hand. The moment lasted until it was tossed over his shoulder and further mangled when it landed back on the concrete.

About 9 paces ahead a mural came into view, the two presidential candidates faced each other, locked in a stare down. The wall was covered with meticulously painted graffiti covering the roughly textured chipped, red schoolhouse, bricks. The boy stopped, and let his blue eyes follow the flow of bricks that had stories painted all over them. Like everything around him, there are stories to tell while others are already being told. Scenarios being peeled away from their fixtures. He turned on his heel, took a right emerging from his canopy of trees, his street, his sidewalk, his story, onto the main road where lines were being written as he walked, where the paths were unfamiliar. He left the breeze behind as he continued on his way.

WA-2 Rough Draft

He stepped from his doorway and was met with the warm feeling of morning sunshine. He bent over to adjust his shoelaces. He descended the front porch steps onto the cracked, dirtied but very familiar sidewalk. From above, the sun coming through the trees cast the light into tiles as if it were converting the sidewalk into his kitchen floor. A slight breeze tousled his hair and placed a soft whispered secret into his ear. As he fell into a slow sauntering pace, the sound of squirrels munching on acorns came from unidentifiable places. He let his eyes wander for a second as he slowed, searching for the source of noise. When he retired his hope of finding it he saw his favorite old lady sitting on her porch reading Anna Karenina. She looked up from her book and raised her hand to gesture a kind salutation, no different from any other morning. Her calm disposition and serene smile was a shroud to her failing memories. He continued on his way, letting his feet carry him along. A small white pamphlet flittered across his shoe. He bent down to inspect the bleeding ink that composed a lost dog poster. The words on it read, “Small, brown, and affectionate. Have you seen her?” Then as the wind had brought it, it took it away, riding on the breeze that rumpled his hair. Whispered in his ear. He issued a sigh and rocketed a black walnut into the street with a sharp kick. It shattered in the road, opened, and spilled its contents onto the warming asphalt. “The temperature is now 76 degress with a high coming midday of 89,” said a passing car’s radio. Simultaneously he wiped a forming bead of sweat from his brow. To his right, lay a broken and battered shoddy recliner ready to be whisked away by a garbage truck. He pictured the size of the man that had created the trash out of what had once probably been a nice piece of furniture. For a spilt second he thought about testing out it’s stability when a baby blue robin’s egg caught the attention of his eye. It solitarily lay cracked and abandoned on the sidewalk. He gently scooped it up and it lay peacefully in the palm of his calloused hand, he opened his pocket and gingerly placed it there. About 9 paces ahead a mural came into view, the two presidential candidates faced each other, locked in a stare down. The wall was covered with meticulously painted graffiti covering the roughly textured chipped, red schoolhouse, bricks. The boy stopped, and let his blue eyes follow the flow of bricks that had stories painted all over them. Like everything around him, there are stories to tell while others are already being told. Scenarios being peeled away from their fixtures. He turned on his heel, took a right emerging from his canopy of trees, his street, his sidewalk, his story, onto the main road where lines were being written as he walked, where the paths were unfamiliar. He left the breeze behind as he continued on his way.