Lilly's Letter, Page 1

I have to admit, I had never felt this way about woman before. She had a...a grace. Before I had ever spoken to her, I only watched her from a distance. I was in-thralled by the way she spoke with people. She always used a tenderness with them; knowing exactly what they needed from her. If they needed her joy, she gave it. If they needed her strength, she gave it. I needed to talk to her; I needed to be with her. So I walked up to her; just like that. I smiled at her, introduced myself, and I knew nothing would be the same.

I remember one night she was looking for a ride home, and I quickly rose to the occasion. I wanted to offer her something; anything. Even if it was only a ride. When I offered it, she looked surprised, and then her features softened and she smiled at me. Oh man...that smile; I could have had love stamped on my forehead. I lead her to my car, and she got in. "Thank you, David." She said to me. To have her thankful to me was something I learned I would want more of in the future. "No problem, Lilly. I couldn't leave you stranded at the park." So we set off.

She told me about her family, her passions, her excitements. It made me want to be a man even more. She was a real woman. She knew who she was, where she came from, and who she belonged to. She knew her identity. And because of that, being with her, I could be a man when she needed me to be. If you've never looked into the eyes of a real woman who offers love so gently, then you've never experienced that feeling of warmth; like you're excepted for who you are. She excepted me, and encouraged me to give strength. It was a friendship I could never imagine letting go. Sadly, one day, I would have to let her go.

Baby Shoes - Page 1

Wrapping her arms around her waste was something she did regularly, but today she seemed to be holding herself tighter than before; something she did when she felt unsafe. Marla couldn't understand why she had stopped in her tracks just moments before reaching the steps to the clinic. She had already made up her mind, prepared herself for the worst, and created her alibi for why she would be late from school.

As she stood in the snow she thought back to what Christopher had told her. "This is the right thing to do. We wouldn't be able to take care of it anyway. It would ruin our lives, make our parents hate us, and eventually we would hate each other." She had to believe him. She loved him. The snow wasn't what made her shake, though. Her heart beat faster, and her face was white. She took in a deep sigh and climbed the steps to the abortion clinic. She had no choice. When she reached the door, she said out loud "I'm sorry, baby." She took the handle and walked inside.

A song from the typewriter

Hello. My initials are SEM at the present time, but you can call me Mc G (pronounced Mic Jee). Here is a bit about me: I am a young woman seeking after the heart of my Lover, Jesus. He is the One I love now and forever. He instills in me the strength to go through my rough and unscheduled days. He gave me my passion; my passion for writing. Currently, I do all of my writing on my typewriter in my bedroom. I can sit for hours and type. It sounds like a song to me (I actually enjoy humming while I write, and getting into a typing rhythm...I know, weird). I have never actually shown any of my real writing to anyone. Sure, my stories I wrote in high school were seen be my teacher and occassionally my parents, but that was it. I have never displayed my personal writings to anyone. However, I thought it would be a good time for me to display some of it to you - the reader - in an effort to recieve feed back. Please, leave say whatever you would like. I am not afraid to hear your thoughts (good or bad; hate or love). Lay it on me.