Camerons Creative Writing
OVERVIEW
CAMERONTHEHUMBLENARRATOR.UMWBLOGS.ORG RANKINGS
Date Range
Date Range
Date Range
LINKS TO WEB PAGE
WHAT DOES CAMERONTHEHUMBLENARRATOR.UMWBLOGS.ORG LOOK LIKE?
CAMERONTHEHUMBLENARRATOR.UMWBLOGS.ORG HOST
FAVORITE ICON
SERVER OPERATING SYSTEM
I observed that this domain is operating the Apache/2.4.7 (Ubuntu) os.TITLE
Camerons Creative WritingDESCRIPTION
Camerons Creative Writing. Journal 3 Rose and the Crayon Incident. April 10, 2015. Alone with no other children,. Forced to roam the house. In search of trouble. No one to color with,. Her new crayons sit in the box,. She peeks at the vanity. Little fingers grasp at. Lipstick tubes and compacts. She has no knowledge of the. Damage being dealt with her. Back from school,. An unforgiving sister discovered. The crayons were no longer safe. Pieces were to be made. Revenge was to be painted. April 6, 2015.CONTENT
This domain cameronthehumblenarrator.umwblogs.org states the following, "Journal 3 Rose and the Crayon Incident." Our analyzers observed that the webpage stated " Alone with no other children,." The Website also stated " Forced to roam the house. No one to color with,. Her new crayons sit in the box,. She peeks at the vanity. She has no knowledge of the. Damage being dealt with her. The crayons were no longer safe. Pieces were to be made. Revenge was to be painted."VIEW OTHER WEB SITES
I breathe in the cologne. That lingers on my pillow and. Thumb the pages of my favorite book,. To me before driving away.
They Danced in the Rain- poem 3. The family Heirloom- poetry journal 2.
8220;What would you do differently? 8221; she asks,. Pretend I am thinking hard,. And look out the window. I would reach back ten years,. And whisper into my own ear,. 8220;Do not do this to yourself. Who spit words like acid,.
Friday, April 10, 2015. Write a memory of something you could not possibly remember. It started with a crash,. A mansion turned soup kitchen. Too feeble to lift up a spoon,. She bent her head down. The ends of her hair turning orange. With the pigment of the tomatoes. Her mother, sweeping up the stray hair.
Is bright light and noise,. All I know is crying. To fill my lungs and.