Gun ControlRandall paused as he looked at his collection of assault rifles and semi automatics. He barely used them but sometimes liked to admire his collection. He thumbed the dust off his favorite rifle, his Rutger 10-22. Randall hadn't used this gun in nearly five years, not since he had proudly taken it to the shooting range. It wasn't the most useful weapon—he had taken it hunting only once, and had misfired. He was still proud of it, though.The ex-hunter dusted off the rest of his assault rifles and pistols. The thought crossed his mind that maybe he could sell them; after all, he hadn't had any use for them in years. He also thought of going to the shooting range today. But he could always do it tomorrow. Satisfied with that thought, he left his gun room and sat down in his favorite chair. He turned on the television, watching Fox News."Senator Feinstein is proposing legislation that will ban the use and sale of certain assault rifles and pistols, as well as certain cartridges. This assa
Makeshift GingerbreadThe makeshift gingerbread house sat on the table. Tracie had cobbled it together out of graham crackers and a wide variety of candy pieces. Spree pieces decorated the front, while candy corn adorned the roof. Gum drops, a necessity for a gingerbread house, had been placed on the top and around the house; she had stuck pieces of candy cane on the sides of the house. What Tracie considered to be the centerpiece, however, were the sour patch kids whom she had placed as though they were walking into the house.Despite the fact that the house was crooked and did not look like one of the box sets that her boyfriend had wanted her to buy, Tracie was pretty proud of what she had made. Just out of what I found in the cupboards, she thought. Imagine that!As she turned her back on her creation to wash her hands and start doing the dishes, she heard a key turn in the lock and the front door open. "Hey, Eric!" she called out, not looking up from her task.Eric took his boots off, wet and slushy wi
Love Letter to BreakfastDearest Breakfast,I wanted to tell you today how much I loved you. You, unlike other things in my life, never fail me if I come seeking for you. You rarely break promises, and you are always there to greet me and give me encouragement at the beginning of a rough day. Breakfast, you never anger and you never hurt me in any way. I cannot fully express my gratitude for your patience and willingness to take the brunt of my frustrations and emotions. You are truly a near perfect entity.No matter what form you take, you are always satisfying to me. I have discovered over the years that you will give me a great sense of solitude if I take the time to slow down and spend time with you. If I just grab you on the run, with minimal time taken to enjoy and savor your luscious tastes, I am truly disappointed because I know that I've hurt you. I know when I just grab you on the run and don't sit time to spend time with you, you feel used and hurt. I'm sorry for that; I know that just like with eve
Obstacles"Come on," she said to him, smiling. "It should be a good time."He squirmed away from the hand she had placed on his shoulder. "I'd rather stay home tonight."She sighed in frustration. She had been wheedling him all day to come with her to the theatre. He hadn't been out of the house in several days, and getting him out would do him a world of good. Besides, some of her friends would be there and she wanted to introduce him to them. Maybe this time his reaction to them would not end badly. Maybe this time he would actually enjoy himself. Hopefully, this hadn't been wishful thinking on her part so far.But if he was refusing to take that step, even with her help, there was nothing she could do."Why would you rather stay home?" she asked, knowing the answer."I told you," he said. "I don't like plays. I don't want to go." He sat on the couch, his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He wasn't budging on his answer, she knew. Her eyes flickered on the wall clock hanging above his head.