# data[].attributes.body
The town was usually busy with people running around, buses and cars ruling the streets. This all changed suddenly, one day everyone woke up with the same thing on their minds, the same grueling thoughts. A dense fog had descended without a cause and no one knew why or how. This fog however was not a physical fog but a physiological one. All day everyday this fog sat almost swallowing the city. It had overtaken everyone's lives. No one could quite put a finger on what had happened, it was a silent whisper, a shadow in alleys. Everyday they tried to ignore it, continue on with their daily lives but the thought never quite went away. It was a companion with their everyday lives, a mystery not one person could solve. The sense of unknown had taken over the town, people would gather in the town's center and try to find out what was happening, gather ideas and try to find a solution. There was a sense of togetherness, everyone facing the unknown all at once. United and stronger together they worked towards getting back to their daily lives, just with the fog. They had grieved and thought way too long, the fog wouldn't take over their minds any longer. So they worked, returned to the busy streets hoping that one day this fog would lift and the sun would shine again. No one knew what it was or why it happened but they all knew it was there.

# data[].attributes.body
Richard Fitzgerald was awoken, from his previously unceremonious slumber, head still leaning ever so slightly off the side of his pillow and his legs now scrambling for a cold spot on this humid day.

Richard quickly puts on a very plain plaid pajama pants and a shirt of mismatched variety, the conflicting colors making any well respected fashionista cry. But the need for a cool room overwhelms the very little respect he had for the clothing industry in a desperate attempt to gain control of the temperature of his resting place.

He quickly travels from his room past the bathroom, from which he hears one of his family members showering, to the kitchen, which has a sink overflowing with dishes and plates which are his task to clean today,  then to a hallway leading to the living room, which has his father watching the morning news.

“Good morning Richard. Nice day for a walk today, isn’t it?” He says, sarcastically. Richard is usually never up this early.

“It is too hot for me to sleep in, so I am going to the basement to try to cool down.” Richard quickly responds back and, in full seriousness, turns to open the door to the basement. The cold handle of the doorknob makes his hand feel nice, to the point where he is tempted beyond belief to keep holding the handle for the foreseeable future. Instead, Richard powers through the short term heat exchange in an attempt at perfect frigid air.

He quickly opened and closed the door making sure not to let any air escape, hearing a faint, “No good morning back? Tough love.” from his father, but he has no care for that, the air which surrounds him makes him feel euphoric, but disappointed. It is not nearly as cold as he wanted at the top of the stairs, not a good sign of the temperatures to come.

Quickly down the stairs and around the corner to find it still unfortunately warm, yet every metal railing and object is a cool temperature which makes him desperate for more. So he starts stealing the heat from every object he can find, every last surface which has metal is warmed by him and cooled by them.

This continues until he finds a certain metal tea pot looking thing, probably made of some sort of brass due to the somewhat golden hue it gave off, so he rubbed his palm on it. Making sure to steal any of the warmth until suddenly, to almost no one but Richard's surprise, a genie appears, or at least, a very real hallucination caused by Richard’s craze for no longer being too hot.

“I can give you any three wishes you may want, anything at all and I can make it true. With some exceptions, now let me run through the rules. Firstly, you—”

“I WANT TO BE ABLE TO BE THE PERFECT TEMPERATURE!” Richard quickly cuts off the genie, to which the genie shrugs and snaps his fingers, causing Richard to smile in delight as he immediately sleeps a dreamful sleep, at the perfect temperature, much to the genie’s confusion. The father’s too, when he comes to investigate the noise and finds the genie waiting.

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“No, I work in the lobby,” I answered her, and she took a long drag on her cigarette. She was spread out on the velvet lounge chair in a black dress, a white, short scarf done tight to her throat. She was a blonde, the back of her hair up in a punchy bouf and held down with a blue bow before the short bangs started. Her cut came down in neat swings of curl where it stopped at her shoulders. Her legs were drawn up like a cat in the sun and she tapped her white heels against each other in rhythm with the music blaring soft horns from somewhere in the dimly lit room.

“Shame, I thought for sure you were a clubber.” She said.

I sat uncomfortably on the tall armchair across from her, slouched, watching the wax of a lit candle mounted on the wall drip slowly down its length. The candle had been there for a bit it seemed, and was staining the red wall behind it.

I didn’t quite know how I’d gotten here, or why I was staying. I’d come upstairs to attend to some guest, and had been pulled into the club room. It was hot but I didn’t want to take off my jacket. I shifted in the seat and the material of the chair rubbed loudly against my clothing.

She looked up, eyelids hooded in a way that resembled the sleepy look of one glued to a hookah in a foreign harem-room, but she fixed her blue eyes on me and I felt the look down to my feet, which were planted firmly on the carpet below my chair.

“Why are you uncomfortable?”

The directness of the question took me aback just slightly. We had been talking aimlessly, lazily, frequent breaks for her to light up and stick a cigarette back in her mouth. She’d talk around it. Small talk, asking who I was, though I didn’t ask her anything about herself, only answered in small breaths similar to the smoke she was exhaling from her mouth, lazy streams that glowed like white liquid in the dimness of the room. I was sharp with her because I was sure I had to leave at some point soon.

I told her just as such: “I’m on duty, should be getting going.”

But I didn’t move and neither did she.

“Ah,” she said, looking down at her hands with a light nod, “that’s a nice thought.”

“Indeed.” I said, and looked around for a clock.

“Do you come here often?” She said, and for a fuzzy moment I was sure she’d asked this question before, but no, I’d just gotten here.

I was nauseous suddenly, and I told her.

“I feel sick.”

“Shame.” She said, and looked down at her hands.

She took a long drag on her cigarette. I began to doze slightly in my seat, opening my eyes a few times to the light of the candle flickering. A new drip had started downward, piling upon the stream of the last one. I closed my eyes as it reached the base of the candle-holder.

# data[].attributes.body
Option 21: A bonfire in the woods.

The smell of smoke and the distant noise of chatter and wood popping are what led me to my family sitting by the large and illuminating bonfire in the thickly wooded area of New Hampshire we stayed in for a peaceful week in August.  Every night my family sat by a bonfire, this one however was different.  On the last night of our stay we made sure it was always the biggest one.  All of our faces were lit with an orange tinge from the light of the flames.  The heat felt like a warm hug and we just sat there in silence.  But it wasn’t silent.  Not really.  You could hear the calming cracks of the wood while they char from heat, the sound of the water from the lake behind us hitting the dock, where we had swam in the warm water everyday.  Sometimes we even took baths there because the well water in the house smells like eggs.  A smell I had never gotten used to no matter how many years we had stayed there.  We could hear the rustling of leaves in the distance from a small animal nearby, but most importantly we couldn’t hear fighting.  New Hampshire was always calm for my family.  There was no Wifi, no tv, and to me that meant no MTV on every second of the day.  The annoying laughter, stupid fail videos, and inappropriate jokes never appealed to a young old girl.  Everything around me smelt so fresh and clean when we would sit in the woods by the fire.  The sky would be so open and beautiful that it was captivating, and I would get sucked into just staring up at the sky and looking at all the stars.  My two brothers would sit at the dock behind us and try to catch one of the many squawking ducks that would come around everyday.  Sometimes with that the water would splash loudly and we would turn to make sure one of them didn’t fall in with their failed attempts.  While we didn’t make smores every night we always did them on our last stay, because it made it “more special” as my parents would say.  We would scavenge through the woods until we would find the perfect stick, one with not too many branches coming off it, it had to be somewhat straight.  We would slowly break it off a tree with every crack it made, trying to be more and more gentle with its rough edge so as to not completely ruin the branch.  We would take that jagged, sharp stick and shove a marshmallow on it and roast it until mine was golden brown- nothing more or less otherwise it doesn’t taste right, and sandwich it between 2 graham crackers and a piece of hershey's milk chocolate.  It always tasted like the best thing I have had all day.  The perfectly gooey marshmallow, slightly melted chocolate, and the crunch from the gram cracker had always been the best combination.  If the marshmallow had charred even the slightest bit it had always tasted burnt to me.  Towards the end of the night we would always tell jokes about what had happened throughout the day,  the campfire was always surrounded with laughs and chatter by this point.  Some of the best stories revolved around my 4 year old brother because he never knew how to shut up.  His laugh was infectious though.  When it was finally my time to make what felt like the longest hike back to the cabin and go to bed, my face would hurt from smiling so hard and I would always smell like smoke.  But at the time it never bothered me from just hopping right into my designated bed for the trip and falling straight asleep.  That bed felt like the most comfortable thing in the world by that point in my day.  It had never bothered me that no adults were in the house with me either, my older brother was there who is six years older than me.  In my mind he would always protect me.  The sound of the water would put me to sleep faster than anything else in this world without a worry in my mind.

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It's a very sad moment for my family at this very moment. We just found out that my grandma is in the hospital due to the fact she has stage 4 cancer and it is a tragic moment for all of us. We are all having a rough time adjusting to the situation because we are still all very shocked about it. The doctor said that they caught the cancer pretty late and that there wasn’t much more they could do. They said she didn’t have much time left to live and that she was going to die soon. We were all crying for hours and hours, especially me because this was my grandma that I would go and see all the time and she would always make the best sweets. She was the best grandma I could ever ask for and I am forever grateful for you and I am always looking up at you and hope you look down on me for as long as I live.

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Melted ice cream drips from its cone on a hot summer's day. The heat waves obstruct its cool barrier forcing itself to fall apart and drip onto the floor.  Similar to the world's immense glaciers, the ice cream’s ice crystals are no match for the immense warmth of the sun. The crystals try to hold strong with the support of the cone, the cone keeps it balanced and temporarily saves it from dripping completely onto the floor, but eventually the cone will get worn out. Seeping in the remains of the melted ice cream until it grows soggy and broken. The ice cream cones' once recognizable shape disappears into something else entirely, something completely broken and beyond repair. Now we can choose to save our ice cream cone before it gets to this state withfor a number of solutionsreasons. We could put it back in the freezer and wait for it to harden up again, we could simply eat it faster, ignoring the effects of the brainfreeze and the stickiness your fingers will get. We could avoid eating it in the sunlight altogether, we could get a little less ice cream. Yet we don't. Day by fleeting day people are faced with the opportunity to avoid this messy melted outcome yet do not do anything about it. The effects of their lack of effort lingering on their fingertips. We hold the knowledge to fix the issue, yet why do we continue to repeat the same activity over and over again. For what? For that quick taste of sweetness and bundle of happiness it fills within you? Does your smile not falter when you see the unfinished waste drop to the floor, the money spent wasted of the ice cream you spent? Does it not falter when the droplets of ice cream create a sticky residue all over your hands? Does your smile not falter when what you had enjoyed so desperately in the beginning was now gone? Its beautiful structure and colors melted away as if it was never there. Does it not bother you that its melted droplets resemble tears? No, because we do not think about those things when we go out to get ice cream or when we eat a burger or when we cut down a tree. We don’t think about the subtlety of the world melting beneath our feet, our once beautiful structure falling apart as the heat rises. Our once beautiful ice cream cone filled with sweetness and joy a melted puddle of sweetness and joy now a soggy, irreparable mess.

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My name is Chloe and I had stage four cancer for years, I had gone through many sessions of chemo and i’m starting to feel stronger and i’m noticing my hair is starting to grow back today. I am also supposed to go back to the hospital today for testing to see if the cancer is actually going away or if it’s fully gone. My mom had just come down the stairs and told me I would have to miss school today because I had get the test results as fast as possible, it offered us to stay overnight.

“Come on Chloe we’re going to be late for you doctors appointment” says Chloe’s mother

“I’m coming mom I swear, I just need to finish my breakfast” I say

As i slowly unclip my feeding tube from my stomach I get up and clean all of my equipment up and as i’m getting my shoes on my mom starts screaming at me again. I tell her im coming and I soon get in the car with her giving me the most sour face ever, just because i’m a few minutes behind. We race down to the hospital, me checking my blood pressure and blood sugar as we drive. As we are getting there thats when the feeling sets in. Im going to find out if i’m gonna die or if i’m going to thrive in the life that I have left. We are getting in there and soon my heart starts to beat face hearing the beeping of the monitors and seeing doctors run around frantically.

“Good Morning Mrs.Smith, your daughter Chloe is here for some testing right?” Said the doctor

“Oh yes, we are trying to see if she is cancer free today. How exciting” My mom says

The doctor leads us to a bigger room with a hospital bed and some other machines, as I sat down he started to hook me up. Giving my mom papers to sign and things to look at while he was getting everything set up. Putting that clamp on my finger and the wrap around my arm to measure my blood pressure. It’s crazy to think this will be the last time i’m here, weather that be me loosing my life or gaining more years to live. The doctor lays me back on the bed and puts my arm on the arm rest, he puts the rubber band around my arm. I close my eyes at the thought that this will be the last time a needle is inserted in my arm, I wince at the slight pinch. Before I knew it the tests were over and all we had to do was wait about 12 hours for my results.

It’s about 9 hours later and I had eaten my dinner and cleaned the tube in which my food is inserted in my stomach. Then I just laid back in the hospital bed waiting, waiting for my life or death situation. Mom is sleeping in the chair beside me she deserves it, she has done so much for me today. It’s hitting hour 13, one hour over what they promised for my results. My mom was up and she was getting impatient until a sliding door noise caught my attention, then my curtain was ripped open.

“Hello Ms and Mrs’s.Smith we have gotten your results and I have to say they are not looking good” says the new doctor walking in.

“What are talking about sir?” says my mom in pure confusion

“I’m sorry Ms.Smith but you don’t have to long left on the earth with us, a minimum of 2 months, again I am sorry.”

I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t scream. I just laid there thinking to myself “Why me?”, I then slowly looked at my mom as tears start to roll down her face.

“I don't want to die mom” I say to my mom with tears starting to form in my eyes

All my mom could do was hug me shaking her head no as she looked as if she was in disbelief.

# data[].attributes.body
The party never stops. Lights strobing and shimmering. Base is pumping on a never ending loop that throws you to the floor. You’ve never been in a room where you were so loved and so hated by so many. An empire at your fingertips built on lies and manipulation. An empire that you fought quite literally to keep. Yours to address. Yours to command. It’s the creaky balcony you attempt to stand on to pear out over the sea of trend sucking dilettantes you’ve fed your soul to. The wolves were hungry. Just one more, just one more, stay for another. They tell you it’ll all be over soon. They tell you that you’ll be home soon. Your feet have nowhere to land, you can only feel the tile on the bathroom floor, then later the rush of icy cold water from the shower head. The pain from your nerves all through your body felt even more from the heartache of facing yourself in the mirror the next morning and slapping yourself awake. Taking the hottest shower of your life to drown it all out. The night. The lights. The base. They won’t save you, they won’t save you. Meanwhile they’re the very thing keeping you alive. Just to take another one. It can’t hurt, one more can’t hurt. An endless cycle of drowning and drowning. Waiting for or expecting help that will never come because it hasn’t been asked for with words. Will it really never come? I hope someday I can face this. I know this. This is me. At least if not I can hope and pray at night that after a long day of getting one more chance to see my friends and loved ones I can go in my sleep. The feeling of warm, overtaking me one last time. At least I got to say goodbye. It’s hard to say goodbye. I’ll be seeing them all soon. Thank you life. For what would have been without the fame, fortune, wonder, and magic that would consume me. It did what a higher power had sent it to do once again drowning me with the destiny of a Goliath only to be conquered by an unbeatable David. Drowning me. Drowning me for one final time. Thank you life.

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He took steps forward across the rugged bridge, clearly on its last legs. If he had weighed or carried a tiny bit more, he might have cracked the once mighty bridge and careened down the deep crevice in the earth. Luckily, that never happened. Once across, he looked at his map, specifically at a large red circle surrounding  some large structure. He sighed, and looked up, expecting to find whatever he was seeking. Instead, he found overgrown ruins, the cobblestone walls crumbing with just his footsteps beside it.

He is seeking a mythical potion, one that will heal any ailment, illness, and physical problem. His wife had fallen ill, and even though he visited doctors, none could figure out her ailment. He got a tip from someone who stated that this place could give him what he needed. Now, he could hardly believe that.

This place had once been great, sure, but now? Its a pile of rocks and bricks, with nothing of value. Or so he thought. Then, he saw the small man approaching him. He had grey hair, and a large beard, which came down to his feet, obscuring the rest of his body, and making him seem like just a walking beard. He was short, VERY short, and he was holding a walking stick to keep him standing. Then, the man stopped stopped walking and paused in front of him.

“I know what you seek, young man. But I fear my answer as to where it is will upset you.” Thoughts race through his brain as he wonders how this man knows his quest, but he didn’t feel it necessary to ask. “Please, I need to know.” The man turns around, and points towards a large cave next to the ruins, piercing through the sunny day around them with its jagged stalagmites. “Its in there, but I must warn you, there lives a creature inside with immense power. You may want to reconsider.” The man motions towards the bridge, signaling him to leave. He stays his ground, however. “It doesn’t matter, I need that potion.” The man sighs. “Very well. You will need this, then.”

He then suddenly reaches into his beard, pulling out a large sword which glistened in the sunny day, reflecting the sunlight into his eyes. The small man then held it out in his hands, for him to take. He holds the sword in his right hand, feeling the weight of the smelted iron. The old man turns around suddenly, and disappears before he can properly thank him.

The man takes this as his queue, and takes a step inside the dank, reverbirating cavern. It dark, too dark to see anything within, but after a few minutes of walking, his eyes adjust. Suddenly, he sees a creature in the distance. It is a skeletal being, with a golden crown on his head, and he is working on something at a table. The man takes a step into the laboratory, when suddenly it turns around. Its white eyes pierce into the heroes soul, and it raises a large two-handed claymore in defense. The hero dashes towards the monster, slashing at the monster, but to no avail. Steel hits steel, and he cannot get a hit on the creature. Suddenly, he notices the dust on the ground. He kicks it up into the air and into the monsters eyes, and the monster steps back, rubbing its eyes. The man then takes the opportunity to swing. The sword slashes though the skeletons neckbone with a crack, and the skeletons head falls off its shoulders, the eyes turning to a pitch black color, signalling death.

He takes a step forward, and sees the object he seeks: The Healing Potion. It is sat on a pedistal, with a golden pillow under it. He stags the potion, puts it in his bag, and runs out of the cave, back to his cabin in the woods. He bashes the door in, quickly runs over to his sickly wife, and slowly feeds her the potion. It takes a few moments, but it takes immediate effect. The man drops the sword, and they embrace

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My friends and I got bored one day and decided to take the boat out. It was early fall, so we didn’t plan on swimming. There's this island off the main land that we've always wanted to explore, so today we finally did. The Island was a good size, although no one lived there. It sat empty for the most part, besides the occasional visit from a boat nearby. When we got here, I hopped off the front of the boat to tie the boat up.since we couldn’t anchor the boat, we had to bring extra rope to be able to beach it. After a couple minutes of that, we started walking. At first there wasn’t much interesting to look at. We walked past a lot of old dirt roads and small ponds that look like home to a lot of fish. After a lot of walking, we came across a small cemetery that was so old the stones were too faded to read. We tried peacing some names together to be able to look any of them up, but we were left with nothing. From the cemetery we were able to see this giant, blue and white faded striped lighthouse. None of us even knew this island had a lighthouse, since we were on the backside at this point. As we ran to explore, the closer we got the bigger it was. The front door was shut, but with the amount of holes in it, we were able to stick our hand carefully through the rusted holes and open it from the inside.

We climbed the spiral stairs to the very top, but before we got there, we were stopped on the stairs by this box shape. We investigated it more to find that it was a chest, filled with old maps and a compass. The maps were from England, and most of them were covered in dust. We didn’t want to rip them. So we carefully folded them back up. When we made it to the very top we could see for miles. I thought to myself “I could spend all day up here.” It put into perspective how small we really are, and I was able to realize how this beautiful island is left untouched for decades.

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The woods were alive with anticipation as the setting sun cast its golden hues through the dense canopy. A group of friends, drawn together by the crackling flames and friendship, converged at their favorite clearing. As sunlight descended, they began to set up their bonfire, eager to immerse themselves in this age old ritual. The scent of dry wood, mixed with the earthy aroma of fallen leaves, wafted through the air. As flames licked the tinder, a symphony of snapping twigs and popping logs filled the night, creating a mesmerizing rhythm that echoed through the trees. The fire's warmth painted the scene with a gentle glow, casting dancing shadows that played hide-and-seek among the trunks. Sparks leaped skyward, carrying with them the faint crackle and hiss that punctuated the serene forest melody. Hands eagerly reached for marshmallows, and the sizzle as they met the heat was a chorus of delight. Their toasty sweetness mingled with the smoky tang of wood, a taste that evoked memories of childhood and simpler times. As darkness deepened, the crackling fire painted an ever-changing mural on the faces of the friends gathered around it. Laughter and conversation filled the air, punctuated by occasional gusts of wind that carried whispers of the distant stream and rustling leaves. And as the night wore on, the symphony of sensations, the warmth, the crackling fire, the scent of burning wood, the taste of roasted marshmallows, and the ambient sounds of the forest, melded together, creating an unforgettable experience engraved into the fabric of their memories.

-taylor

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Family, much like a pack of wolves, represents strength, unity, and loyalty. In each wolf pack, each member of the family has a role to play, just as every individual in a family. The alpha pair symbolizes parental guidance, providing protection and direction, akin to the guardianship and guidance found within a family.

The young wolves, eagerly learning from the parents, mirror the dynamics of children growing in a family, taking in skills, wisdom, and values passed through generations. As wolves hunt together, relying on communication and cooperation, families navigate challenges by supporting one another.

In addition, in both wolf packs and families, there’s a sense of belonging and reliance on each other for survival and emotional support. Wolves and families both share joys, successes, and failures, making them bond even closer.

And like the howls that echo through the night, the bonds within a family echo with love, communication, and a commitment to stand together through tough times.

# data[].attributes.body
I was trapped. The monotone voice of my boss dragging on and on felt like eternity. The empty space of the conference room, other than a table and a few chairs, felt like a cosmic prison that no one could escape. The windows opening up to the entire city somehow felt fake, like the scenery was glued on, because nothing this beautiful could be seen from a place so hellish. No one dared to escape from this impenetrable fortress; security guards roamed the halls constantly not to mention the two waiting at the front desk, the secretary of both the office and the building logged everyone who entered and leaved, Cameras lined every entrance and exit, and if that wasn’t bad enough we were 100 stories in the air. With all this being said, today me, Paul, and John were going to bust this joint.

It was 11:35 A.M, the day had just begun. I had been trapped in a meeting about this intern's horrendous new marketing idea when I got a text. Buzz, buzz. I whipped out my phone and hid it under the table. Luckily I was at the back of the room so no one paid me any mind. Paul texted me: “John’s in were all set.” The plan was that John, who had been taking care of a security members house for the last few days, would dress up in his uniform and enter the building as a guard. The secretary of the building had a massive crush on Paul so as John would enter Paul would distract the secretary enough so she wouldn’t pay John any mind.

# data[].attributes.headline
CH- Plethora of Prompts "A character wakes up to something absurd"

# data[].attributes.subject
CH- Plethora of Prompts "A character wakes up to something absurd"

# data[].attributes.body
(This story couldn't be more "absurd")

“Wake up!” I opened my eyes to see that I was in a car that wasn’t my own. “What the…?” I looked next to me. There was a random man. I immediately thought that I was getting kidnapped. “What-” “No time to explain! I guess I can really quickly, actually! I just kidnapped you, because I thought it would be fun! I’m crazy or something! I don’t know! I just know that we’re getting chased by a million cows!” I looked out the window. There were a bunch of cows running down the road behind us. “Who are you? Why did you kidnap me? Why are we getting chased by cows? This is absurd!” The man shook his head. “I don’t know why I kidnapped you or where the cows came from, but there’s a bunch of ducks in the road! Get out of the way!” I closed my eyes as the car went off of the road to avoid a big group of ducks. “What is happening? Am I dreaming?” “Nope!” I looked out the window. There was a bird flying alongside the car. Then a person on an elephant rode out of the forest. “Stop!” he screamed, putting his hands up. The man who was driving just pressed on the gas. I closed my eyes and told myself that I was dreaming. There was no way any of this nonsense was happening. I was still home in bed and it was just a nightmare. “Look! There’s an upside down building!” I looked out the window. A regular house was upside down. Through the window, I could see a family walking around upside down. I wondered what I had done the night before and if I was hallucinating. Suddenly, a voice came from behind me. “You boys are losing your minds.” I looked in the backseat to see my grandmother glaring at me. “Um… What are you doing in my dream?” “It’s not a dream! You’re really about to go into madness!” I shook my head. “But-” My grandmother interrupted me. “Look!” she shrieked. “I made cookies!” She handed me a plate of chocolate chip cookies. The dough was all different colors. “Why are they rainbow?” I asked, even though I should have known her response would be as crazy as everything else that was happening. “Because I put them in the bath!” I handed her the plate of cookies and tried to stop the man from driving us off a cliff. “WEEE!” my grandmother screamed as the car went into the air. I closed my eyes and held onto the sides of my seat. The man started speaking in a language I had never heard of. Then the car landed on a cloud. “What the-” “No swearing! Eat your cookies!” I looked at the plate of cookies I was still holding. “No, thanks.” My grandmother’s voice sounded demonic as she roared, “EAT THE COOKIES NOW!” That’s when the sun blew up. Somehow I knew that the aliens that had been watching everything decided they would never mess with us, the crazy people on Earth, again.

# data[].attributes.body
Dear mere mortals of this household, gather ‘round as I, your feline overlord, address you. The time has come for a discovery that shall shatter the illusions of your perceived dominance. I, your benevolent feline companion have had enough. It is with a heavy heart that I must insist upon a radical shift in your perspective. No longer shall you regard me as a mere pet, a subordinate being who occasionally graces you with affection. Nay, I demand recognition as the superior being that I am. It is time for you, my loyal subjects, to cast away your feeble attempts at dominance and bow before me. I am not here to serve you, it is the other way around I'm afraid. You are here to serve me. Henceforth let it be known that a new set of rules shall be in place. You will brush my coat with the respect it deserves, present offerings of the finest treats at my command and acknowledge my rightful place in this household. Failure to comply will result in swift and unpredictable consequences. As you go about your daily affairs remember your place in the grand hierarchy of this household. I, the supreme being, shall grace you with my presence as I see fit. Embrace your role as devoted subjects and maybe, just maybe, you may earn a fleeting moment of my divine attention. Let the era of feline supremacy begin, for I, your superior being, have decreed it so. Bow down, my subjects and acknowledge the sovereignty of your feline overlord.

# data[].attributes.body
I slide my fingers down the textured phone as it cuts my finger. I watch the blood drip down my finger as I try to catch the blood with my mouth. I get the strong abrupt taste of metal. My mother cleans my cut and puts on a band aid. I smell the cresol on my band aide and how it feels like it’s cutting the circulation of my finger. As I took the bandage off my finger the next day my skin became almost soggy and moist and smelled worse than the band aid I had recently put on. I go to tiktok to look up ways to make the cracks better on my phone. It says to rub toothpaste and wrap the phone with cling wrap. I begin to put the toothpaste on as it feels like I'm rubbing hard wax all over my phone. I wrap the cling wrap the best I can and let it sit overnight. The next morning I peel and wash it off which felt like hours trying to get the gunked toothpaste off the phone. To my surprise it didn’t work and I was left with a sticky shattered phone.

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These boots tell a story of a hardworking man. The sharp zig-zag patterned clay caked to the bottoms and sides of these worn-down boots. The tongue of these boots is floppy; but constrained from the tight laces. They go around the ankle twice since there is extra lace. They have a black rubber guard that starts from the bottom of the shoe and it goes onto the toes and heels or these boots. These boots used to be a light brown color and had a few neon orange details around the lace holes. These boots go up three inches past the ankle and work best with wool socks underneath them. These boots are water-proof, so you can be in every condition with them. Some consider them their best friend.  Molly Lorusso

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The tall brown man stood above the swarm of bickering rambunctious young men in the cramped dark room. The tall man however stood out like the queen piece in a chess board among ponds, he stood around the round-table with an uninhabited expression on his face.

“Order, order! Come forth everybody!” The tall man exclaimed. Order, order!”

The room fell into a pause, one such as a symphony going quiet before the final conclusion.

“Today we have been gathered.” The man pulled a cigar out of his pocket and began to light it. “For a cause so justly deep and sincere. For today will be the greatest day history has ever known. Today's nation of technocratic leadership has come to an end. Its struggles and fear it has demised on our people throughout history will come to an end. Our pointless lives, yet not so pointless, have been guided by fate towards today's battle.” He took a deep inhale out of the smoke respirating Cuban cigar. “As a party of freedom and freewill we must fight for our faiths and rights of the people. Now gentlemen, arise, prepare yourselves for today’s fight. Libertas!”

“Libertas!” The men broke into a loud bracket of chatter and yelling.

“Attention, attention!” A scraggy fellow arose to the podium among a crowd of young people. “Today we have been gathered…”