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TeenInk How would you rearrange this old cliche? "You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar" http://t.co/xTNZxcKYxK

Fri May 24, 2013 10:17am  Reply  Retweet  Favorite

TeenInk "Thinking is the best way to travel." - The Moody Blues http://t.co/5jzE5kVJyB

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TeenInk If this is the ending of the story, what is the beginning? http://t.co/gRzPosYXRi

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  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    The tiny, tidy houses of the colonies were huddled close together in the deserted streets as if to keep warm in the crisp, daunting September breezes of New York in 1777. The sun had dimmed hours ago, and the unrest and dissent of rebellion lingered in the gloomy streets from the arched backs of the...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    For the second time today, Alyssa found herself seated on a kitchen stool, the cold creamy tile under her elbows, her hands clutching a worn and tear-stained recipe card. Since her sister’s death, she had wandered in the kitchen often, thinking about her. Alyssa closed her sea-green eyes, and fant...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The shiny, yellow, and very small fish swimming in the bowl on your kitchen table was not nearly as succulent as the large, pale, and stationary fish that you keep in the bowl in your refrigerator. Forgive me, I now know the distinction between the two, and I recall how much pleasu...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    If I open the door to my Dad’s office just a little bit and peer inside, it appears to be a conventional at-home office. I see one of the two meticulously organized bookcases, and note the crisp, cool air coming from inside. I see the pale, tan walls, and the white carpet and ceiling. However, ope...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The leisurely evening faded into night as the sun recessed in the distance, advancing shadow replacing summer's illumination. A family reclined in their backyard, where wooden stumps form a circle around a warm glow smoldering in a fire pit. An assembly of shadows dance in the surrounding woodl...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    clear, spring-cold water swishes over stolid stone trickles towards the town...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I stand alone before turbulent seas Angry waves rise up against me My imminent failure Sparkles in their eyes They do not hide their intentions Blatant as the sun Pounding on my back They rise to make me fall The dark sun dances tauntingly Flaunting my weakness Before my already bronze...

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