We knew the pain of winter wind rushing up your skirt

We knew the pain of winter wind rushing up your skirt, and the ache of keeping your knees together in class, and how drab and infuriating it was to jump rope while the boys played baseball. We could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment each other, but sometimes, after one of us had read a long portion of the diary out loud, we had to fight back the urge to hug one another or to tell each other how pretty we were. We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

property
prose
protest
public
pull
pump
punishment
purpose
push
put

As soon as I got into the library

As soon as I got into the library I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I got a whiff of the leather on all the old books, a smell that got real strong if you picked one of them up and stuck your nose real close to it when you turned the pages. Then there was the the smell of the cloth that covered the brand-new books, books that made a splitting sound when you opened them. Then I could sniff the the paper, that soft, powdery, drowsy smell that comes off the page in little puffs when you're reading something or looking at some pictures, kind of hypnotizing smell.

I think it's the smell that makes so many folks fall asleep in the library. You'll see someone turn a page and you can imagine a puff of page powder coming up real slow and easy until it starts piling on a person's eyelashes, weighing their eyes down so much they stay down a little longer after each blink and finally making them so heavy that they just don't come back up at all. Then their mouths open and their heads start bouncing up and down like they're bobbing in a big tub of of water for apples and before you know it... they're out cold and their face thunks smack-dab on the book.

That's the part that makes librarians the maddest. They get real upset if folks start drooling in the books

poison
polish
political
poor
porter
position
possible
pot
potato
powder

Life is too hard

Life is too hard, too much to handle. Nobody told me there’d be days like these. How could nobody tell me there’d be days like these? How could they let me grow up like that—happy and pink and stupid?

mixed
money
monkey
month
moon
morning
mother
motion
mountain
mouth

Sometimes life isn’t about the end

Sometimes life isn’t about the end,” he finally says. “It’s not always about tomorrow and the day after that —what we achieve over the years and how we leave the world. Sometimes it’s about today

little
living
lock
long
look
loose
loss
loud
love
low

Don't get me wrong

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and all. But my father and I have the sort of loving relationship in which, whenever he says more than one sentence in a a row to me, I want to stab myself in the heart with a a recently formed silver knife.”
current
curtain
curve
cushion
damage
danger
dark
daughter
day
dead

Sometimes life isn’t about the end

Sometimes life isn’t about the end,” he finally says. “It’s not always about tomorrow and the day after that —what we achieve over the years and how we leave the world. Sometimes it’s about today.”

control
cook
copper
copy
cord
cork
cotton
cough
country
cover