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
The sun and her hand
The low sun shone orange on her pale skin, her lips curling up into a soft smile as she heard the birds sing.
Her beauty was astounding. She wasn’t the prettiest girl, but she was utterly beautiful. Beautiful with all her body and soul.
Sometimes, when I look into her eyes I see a golden spark. It reminds me of home. Reminds me of the sun reflecting on the waves of the ocean, seagulls telling their tales.
And as I sat there, her delicate hand in mine, the sun hugging the horizon and the trees swaying in the wind, I could hear it, the sea. I was home.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.