The door was made of cedar. It stood between me and the outside world. When I was having a bad day, it would protect the world from my teenage angst. When he was having a bad day, which was often, it would protect me from him.
(more) Cedar couldn't protect against the screaming and yelling, however. Cedar couldn't protect against the fights and the crying. Cedar couldn't protect against the banging that shook the frames of the door. Cedar couldn't protect against his boot and hammer.
I carried the cedar woodchips to the side of the road with the rest of the garbage. Now there was nothing left to protect me. (less)
Already seen. That's the literal translation. These days, those are the words that seem to define my life. It's naive to think that I have already seen everything that I will see, but a rather large part of me believes that I've already felt everything that there is to(more) be felt. I've felt love so strong that to end it was to separate a limb from my body. I've felt hatred that transcended anger. I've been so full of joy that I brought light to those in the darkness. From here on, what is there? (less)
The warm spring air exited my lungs as quickly as it entered. My legs were pushing the bicycle pedals as fast as they could handle in order to keep up with the second cyclist a few yards ahead. Sweat dripped down my forehead. My eyes burned with the(more) salt, making it even more difficult to see.
Faint lights flickered in the distance. Little sky lanterns, they weren't strong enough to illuminate the path. Their strength did not increase as we approached the clearing, though their number did. Ten lights became a hundred, a hundred became a thousand. Very soon, a million little lanterns filled my periphery, all blinking in time to some song hidden in the silence of the forest.