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The sound of the nonexistent alarm clock that doesn't wake you up. Saturday. 12 pm. short and easy. taking the day as it comes. the sound of peacefulness. sitting outside on the porch with your favorite book, listening to the trees in the wind.

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The infinite array of visions and thought that we translate into words. Only able to capture a drip of the oceans of our minds into an audible, visual concept for others to understand
-Carlton

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It's the most natural color of all, a symbol of healthy living beings. As if you are one with nature, the feeling of being apart of something...so much greater than yourself. A sense of wild and untamed freedom. -Jared Hawley

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The snap of the alarm awakens the motivated.The hustle and movement even before the earth has woke. Its a quiet airy time filled with passion and determination. Only a few choose this path of enjoying the bittersweet of the morning dew, and quiet chirps of dusk's creatures. Some hear the grinding of a coffee maker, while others here the pace of their breath.

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Blue expanse stretches as far as the eye can see. You feel a sense of mystery as to what could be in such a place, and you reach up to try and grab hold, as if it was tangible to do so

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The bitter sweet taste of the crispy edges. - Hailey Baca

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Students running out of the classrooms ready to be home.  When friday finally arrives after a long week of early mornings and late nights there is relief.  - cheyanne folk

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I wouldn't quite describe the smell as pleasant, but to say I wasn't drawn to it would be a lie. It snapped me awake, tearing me from the comparative stupor in which I ambled before into painfully full consciousness. The allure was similar to that one feels watching a musician engrossed in his art, or an athlete expertly carrying out his task: a kind of magnetism that makes you feel small before its greatness while at the same time drawing you towards it as a magnet draws a fleck of iron. And, just as that fleck of iron is held still by the magnet, I was held by the odor, utterly restrained yet totaly without desire to struggle.
Lindsey Wilson

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A teenagers world full of their wildest dreams. Singing, dancing, and maybe even listening to loud music. The sound of ideas flowing through the brain while doing homework. The silence of the words rushing out of your head flowing onto your paper. Your room is your world. This is the sound of whatever you want it to be because it is a place that is for you. ~Madison Tanner

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A quiet that is deafening. Consuming all that it touches. Thoughts run wild trying to fill the void silence brings with it. Silence can be cruel, bringing thoughts up from the dark depths from which they were buried.

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I get ready for the first raindrop to hit, like waiting for the sting of someones words to slap you. The power of the storm is not enough to break my strong exterior, but I brace myself for a hard night. As the hard rain pelts me like a bullet, my roots willingly soak up the water that was so needed. Grateful for the hydrating burst of each drop, but scared for the strong winds that blow me in ways I can not control. Throughout the storm I am powerless-- forever at the mercy of mother nature.

-Caroline Reece

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Children dream of super powers. Flying, time traveling, and maybe laser vision. Mind reading however can be dangerous. Imagine the voices constantly clouding the brain, not even being able to keep your own thoughts straight. The millions of ideas and words racing around the mind attempting to come out and make since. The pounding echo pulses pushing everything around. However slowly the thoughts slow and the sound gets quiet. The pencil hits the paper and all of the thoughts in your brain pour onto the paper like an open wound. This is the sound of writing.

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The fresh, musky, crisp leather is overwhelming, but enticing. New adventures waiting to be discovered. The "pure paradise" car freshener overlaps the leather scent with a fruity, tropical fragrance. The knobs of the radio, never been touched, create an aroma of plastic. A mix of many scents come together to make one smell of excitement.
-Alston Carter

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The all-consuming sense of silence holds the tongue captive. A bitter, acidic taste rises from the back of my throat, the words I long to say stuck. The words become jumbled and lost on my tongue. The bitter taste transforms into a melancholy memory of an opportunity lost.
~Mariah Johnson

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Heavy, slow breathing encompasses your personal atmosphere as you inhale the sweet taste of excitement. Patience is demanding you to embrace it tightly, but the speed of your eager heartbeat overrules its' wishes. You dig your sharp fingernails deep into your skin in order to bound your shaky hands from attempting to grasp something that is not yet prepared for your touch. Your soft footsteps hit the solid ground with a quick, sharp impact, and you begin to walk towards your surprise, awaiting you like an eager child waits for their parent to arrive home from work. Your footsteps are slow and controlled, but the pleasure center in your brain is begging, pleading, for you to sprint hard and fast, like never before. The logic center of your brain fortunately yet so unfortunately overrules, and at last, you reach your destination. The heavy wooden door swings open with gust and passion, and you suddenly hear yourself inhale with glee as your surprise stands in front of you, open arms, ready to be welcomed back home.
-Sydney

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How a popcorn kernel feels in the popper

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How a popcorn kernel feels in the popper

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The heat is overwhelming, scorching, an inescapable horror. Endless, dreadful. Pressure from within, pushing forward, outward. Unstoppable. The feeling of impending explosion from within. Skin cracking, insides ready to burst through. The heat is unbearable, death is upon me. I burst. My insides are on my outside, curling outward. Unfurling like a flower in bloom. Agony.
-Kat

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Mind racing and unable to catch what has already fled. The room feels surreal and the smell so faint and barely noticeable but it is there, nagging. The lilacs and jasmine  pulling your mind in so many different directions as you search. It's so fresh, so tantalizingly fresh that you can't help but chase. Like a newly cut field of flowers, the thick aroma filling the air but the choking gasoline of a lawn mower keeping you at bay. It reminds you that you will never have those flowers again, never have the dreams again. Just the awful reality of smoke and pollution.
~Angela

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The globes of the cell squeeze together just as a rubber band wrapped around the finger creates creases. The two halves stretch and form a new wall, just as the skin tightens after a sunburn. The two new spheres pop free to create two cells, a release of pressure and new life. ~Ms. Stalker