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By Jezebel Aries
I got the idea to write this when a classmate of mine passed away due to a brain aneurysm at the age of eighteen. This piece illustrates the funeral procession the entire school held for a lost soul.
By Georgina V Solly
Couple on carnival holiday. There is something strange in the air.
Short Story | Updated Feb 3, 2013 | Reads: 13 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
A history of writing back to the beginning. Lots of stuff that is on booksie, mostly a blog full of drafts. Worth it for the history.
Silence is the night until the day is forlorn.
Coconut Grove was neither a recreational area on the beach front nor a decent residential district but a low-lying shanty area under water during monsoons and home for people at the bottom of the society such as rickshaw pullers, coolies, maids, sweepers, professional panhandlers and petty...
Marked for something special.