All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Water
Lakes, they lack life. But, when they flow,
they remind me of the gentle breeze that hits
when the autumn winds finally settle.
Yet, as the water solidifies for winter, the animals
are still alive, like toppings on a pizza dough,
they stay on the ice, above the water.
The weather has gotten better. Dad’s car is
having little to no trouble backing out of the driveway
now. Mom commutes to the supermarket at her
discretion, and I sit by the corner of the living room,
sticking together my final few Lego pieces for a set
that my parents had gotten me for Christmas.
Outside, the wind tears a gaping howl, as snowflakes
riddle the front lawn with white specks. Passersby leave
their broadly stamped imprints on the sidewalk as we
speak. The weather is surely post-Christmas–like.
Summer, the community hosts a pool for us. There, I
learned my first few tricks of swimming. Lest I embarrass
myself during my first visit at the beach, there I was
on my bed, practicing my freestyle, the backstroke,
then breaststroke . . .
Nine summers later, there I was, working as hard as I possibly
could to prepare for the upcoming soccer season, water in my hand,
Indispensable to the copious amount of sweat that was exiting before me.
As I downed the water, I choked on its mere presence. I was tired,
breathing as I drank, and there I sat, starting blankly at the grass of
my backyard, wondering if I could really land an impact on the season in a month.
Water, spilling into all destinations of my life, rummaging through every
part of my body, the memories in my brain, the tiredness of my fibers.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.