Ready To Read It Now? Click the button and get access to the story for on the go reading! "Grapefruit” is a short story about a young woman named Jordan. She is quiet and reserved but inquisitive and thoughtful. Faced with the task of honoring her tribe, Jordan goes to interview Mother Mahalia.
Jordan meets Mahalia, whom she has admired all her life, just to find out the woman is not at all what she thought she would be. Jordan brings Mahalia the gift of honesty. The gift she receives in return comes with the freshness of citrus and the bite of a new future ahead. This is short story explores immortality, a notion that is becoming more and more intriguing to a generation that doesn't want to age. The tale of these two women makes us question is living forever really worth it?
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Comment below Your thoughts on this topic!Every Friday in 2017, Siren releases a new short story. This series is called the storyteller series. 52 releases for free! Every story is available for 30 days. Siren will release the compilation of these stories in 2018. Get them here first.I'm usually an open book. For three years, I've shared and kept you guys up-to-date with my life. But, I've got to be honest, I dropped the ball on this one. The secret: I'm already a published author. I know. I know. When did that happen? For about a year now, I have had a book on Kindle, waiting for you to purchase it. Although the party is starting late, I can't wait to share this novella with you. Check out Falon's Ending on Kindle today. Don't have a Kindle? Fear not! You can purchase the book and read it online.
As I waited for the storm to die down, a fire rose in my belly.
I had endured the longest night and peaks of the sun were easing into the crease of the horizon. I felt like quoting Angelou. "Still I rise!" But as I opened my mouth God's word exploded. "He prepares a table for me before my enemies." My hunger had been quenched by grief, fear, the pang of exhaustion; But suddenly I was so starved that the thought of satisfaction drove me to my feet. I was standing again. Somehow. Though I had been knocked about by drought and the hell that often encompasses life, I was back up, again. This time not on my knees. This time not with a knelt head. This time my eyes were lifted toward gates of pearls whose promise had kept me alive in the dark. This woman standing was no kin to the woman who had laid on the ground. New blood coursed through my veins as if I had bled out during the night Now that day was returning new life was filling me up. New blood had transformed my wretched soul. New day had given me a reason to hope. And now, just as I had declared before the storm began, I knew. I would leave this place with no need at all. The crunch of yesterday's dirt beneath my feet cannot distract my gaze. It is fixed. Hill-ward my eyes have been ordered and likewise my feet trot on. When I fell from the sky
I landed on my feet with Two sprang ankles Until I learned how to fly I gave thanks to the universe I'll even be alive when I die My soul can't condone gravity I'm in the air The wind whispers as it passes me draw a tree on my limbs There's a seed in my foot I'm walking growth and living proof I'm living in you The future is something that I can see that I can feel With every sacrifice Someone else gets healed Realize what's real Realize what's true If you don't come to that realization in the mirror ... Start over. Have you ever saw a butterfly with 5 wings well there's 5 of me young wolf girl who only Runs with the moon I still manage to smile When all I see is doom Within beauty Within doom again, wrapped in Love, and forced back onto My tongue I am tired I just wanna make myself useful When I close my eyes I see A thousand suns like Stars were stitched to my pupils Peace. I had loose feathers
and a broken nest I tend to keep to myself I tend to take the first step I turn away at my worst I come alive at my best I found the love in myself I went through numerous tests Love is a powerful thing it'll leave you out; stressed but it heals all If you don't believe me Just listen stay, but don't fall I live in a day in age Where we just walk away Missing all the opportunities To form the perfect graceful unities She hits the water and the fire Escapes from her nose She lets the tides Clear her demise Takes a deep breath, hits the road She’s a bird Let her chirp Let her sing She’s a diamond in the rough let her bling, and do her thing She’s sitting pretty on the big gray cloud Located on the top right Of the night sky Like “God why” Screaming so loud Protecting her invisible crown Projecting through time I sit on trees with the owls I sit on the edge of my dreams Watching me sleep in my sleep My mind has to catch up to me painting on faces like “clown” There's more! Keep Reading.I'd like to think that the gift of writing is a subtle way of flying. Like, when I'm sitting writing, the inner part of me is soaring through space and time. But, after watching a contagiously beautiful video, by the Jubilee Project, I wondered what I would change about my body to give myself the cool digs of a mystical creature. What would I change about my body?
In the video adults went straight to their flaws, but the kids saw the bigger picture. One gorgeous little one replied, "like a mermaid tail." Ha! Given the opportunity, I'd like the belly of the Teletubbies! Remember them! The slightly creepy, adorable creatures that had a baby as the Sun. Yeah. I'd like a belly that could see in the world, please. How dope would it be to rub my belly and see the dope folks of Chicago doing their thing. 😌 I know, I know. Amazing, right?! Don't think I came up with that one easily. I was shocked at how long it took me to find a part of my body to change. Kids just seemed to know off the top which mystical body augmentation they'd like lol. It reminded me that the true essence of creativity isn't complicated at all. Now excuse me, I'm going to go find out how to accomplish this TV for a belly thing! Watch the video here and tell me about what you would change about your body below! First things, first; I would like every person reading this post to copy the word Afromerican. Right click, and “Add to Dictionary.” Done. We have made Afromerican a word, officially. It is no longer defined by the Urban Dictionary. In fact, for all future purposes, scratch the google results you found out of your head! I am not the final word, but I did extensive research and Zach Braff has about as much to do with the word Afromerican as I do with the NCAA March Madness. (That’s absolutely none, in case you missed the glaring sarcasm.) With the lexical tasks completed, I can begin the real purpose for this week’s Strog topic: Why I identify as Afromerican.
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