Lake Placid This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   As a crisp morning wind blew across the lake, a few wisps of Jane's coarse grey hair were gently tugged out of her tightly wrapped bun. For 43 years, she had been wearing her hair in that same bun.

The last four decades of her life were modelled in a day-to-day monotonous fashion. She would rise, make breakfast for both of them, and begin her chores cleaning the bathrooms, vacuuming the carpets, preparing lunch, organizing medication, taking orders as if she were a servant and not a wife, and leaving as little time as possible for herself.

When Jane saw the first glimpse of the overpowering bright white sunrise, she had a refreshing feeling wash through her soul. It was invigorating. She realized her personality was like the lake. No matter what bothered it - storms, stones, wind, it always became placid again.

Jane rolled up her already cuffed navy slacks. For a woman of 65, she still dressed sharply and conservatively. As she poked one foot through the chilly surface, a few ripples spread out. The lake turned calm and serene again. It was clear. Just like her thinking. The last thirty years her thinking had been done for her, and now she felt like a new woman.

Breathing in the pine trees, moss, and an extinguished campfire, she exhaled all her bitterness, frustration, and hurt. She hoped they would fly away with the chirping robins overhead that hid in the oak trees that appeared strong until a large wind rustled them.

Jane slid the lone blue and yellow vinyl lawn chair along the wood chips. She moved it closer to the edge of placidity, and farther away from the world behind her. As she moved, she picked up a few stones. Holding the rocks, which were smooth from the time, wind, rain, and lake in her hands, wrinkled from the time, work, and stress of her life, she noticed the contrast.

She used the stones to repent. She cast each one away. But not for herself. She had been the tolerant one, the calm one, the rational one, the compassionate partner. She had been the calm lake, and he was the stones that disturbed the lake. 1


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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