The Emerald a

Unrevised version... School paper


there she stood as strong and as stoic as an old oak tree within a lifeless forest of withering husks of what had been. upon her chest wrought the sting of her ignominious life. The letter of her past encompassed her life what she is, was, and will ever become. she thinks, thinks why me? why take this moment of weak bliss from me, why must I be strong?   she buries this cold and plaguing thought into the dark emerald green earth, keeping it grounded as if it was a poltergeist. her day of work began before the first mocking bird could steal his first song. encroaching upon her eminent fate of sell loathing and hearty pride is almost to much for her fragile mind to battle with. for a sweet moment she opens up a cloister, her taciturn palace of solitude.

stepping to the cold unclean stoop of the evanescent old theater, looking forlornly at the sun, knowing of the scurrilous behavior that awaits, yet excited from the thrill of her authority. her superfluous work rose her to the peak of her mountain, praise and adulation was her blood and authority was her soul.  

Her colleagues all feel her presence as a radiant energy emanating from a singular space. The cohorts rankle her newly found peace with ignorant, puerile questions with childish and infantile attitudes, she keeps a calm serene visage. but inside the maidens mind she is about to erupt like an active volcano! Oh, the trammel she has to keep from showing the possessiveness of her work.   as she works, her eyes narrow brow is furrowed into a ridged peak upon her pale face and her body as stiff as a slab of granite. she takes over any assignment given to anyone, thrusting people away from her exsistance isolating her self nay, denying all contact with distraction as well as companion ship. people speak in negative tongues to her unsuspecting body, words thrown if daggers into her soul and her being.

annoyances thrown in every way, causing her to suffer in silence....