North Franklin Street

Blue

       The house was as brown as a paper bag, while the other houses looked like candy land. Bright yellows and greens filled the hill. The house was old, around 150 years. The shindles were falling off of the roof and the carpets were ripping. The little blonde girl zoomed around the tiny yard on her batman tricycle. She'd pour water into the ground and make pies and castles out of the sticky dirt.

       Years later, her mother would have her pick the color of the house. A medium blue which would begin to peel after a few years. She'd make snowmen and drive a car into the yard. The roof would be black and metal. She'd start getting ready for college and on the day she leaves, she'll walk around the old house. Remembering all the memories, let a few tears fall and smile. It's time to move on. That old house would always be her home.

Rickity Fence

      She had an old rickety fence that separated the road from the house. The little girl had gotten a soccer ball that had a net attached with a Velcro hoop. She attached it to the fence and started to kick it around. Her giggles filled the air when the ball became unattached as she was kicking. Her cries rang out as she fell onto her back, her left hand trying to keep her steady.

       Her mother ran out and brought her inside. She cleaned up any open wounds but looked at her hand. Her pinky was swollen and looked crooked. X-rays would show it was broken and she would need to have it attached with tape the the finger beside it for a month. After wards, she wouldn't be able to keep the finger against the other. But she would find that it's unique, just like her.

Rocky Road

       The gray of the pavement will be with her when she looks in the yearbook. Every single crack and dent in the side of the road. Bumps that were created throughout the years. Bumps that she knew by heart when the car went up and down the hill. She knew which bumps would send her flying on the school bus. This year, the road was torn apart and smooth asphalt was poured in. All the bumps she grew up with were gone. But they are trapped forever in her senior picture.

River Journeys

        When she was little, her and her friends walked down to the river behind the old house. They tredded in the water and picked out silvery muscles. They took so many into a backpack and cleaned them. Fascinated by the color, they each opened them and watched the sandy water pour out. The girl remembers small memories, even like this when she grew up. Something as simple a cleaning muscles.