• January 17Soulja Boy Releases New Handheld 'Soulja Game' Console Despite Ongoing Legal Issues

  • January 17Facebook Shuts Hundreds Of Pages Linked To Russia's Sputnik

  • January 17Facebook Removes Hundreds of Russia-Linked Accounts

  • January 16China Is Growing Cotton On The Moon

  • January 16LA Teacher Strike Enters Day 3

  • January 16Thousands of Furloughed Workers Told To Go Back To Work Without Pay

  • January 16Pacific Storm Threatens Northern California With Blizzards

  • January 16Trump's Base Moves Away From Him During Shutdown

  • January 10Masks Will Be Outlawed at Protests in France With Perpetrators Sent to Jail

  • January 10Evangelical Group Wants Gays Removed From Anti-Lynching Bill

A Dry Life

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It’s so dry…and yellow here. Powdery yellow, blowing in the wind. I wish I had a friend…and a drink. It’s so hard for me to ever get close to anyone. I always hurt them. Unintentionally poking and prodding when all I simply want is a companion. I imagine others with their friends, running, playing, interacting and having a good time and I can do nothing except sit here stationary.I’m green with envy. Maybe it’s because I have a rough personality and I just don’t stick right with others, but at least I have this flower. This flower brings me all the happiness in the world. It’s always by my side, looking incredibly pink and bright with dusty yellow blowing across the top. The flower loves me, and I love it. At this very moment, I poking my flower and am incredibly happy. For some reason, it’s wilting away. It feels extra dry out here, and it’s usually very dry. I feel like I’m dying, but my flower actually is. I’m growing with anxiety, maybe I’m next. I don’t want to die out here, but my only friend and hope is. I’m running out of will. I want to flail around and run away, but I can’t. I have to just sit here and watch my friend die. This is not fair. Why me? I’m drying out. This shouldn’t be possible. My green is fading to the color of the ground around me. The earth is swirling around me and consuming everything, including myself. My parents always told me to watch out for the storm, that it too took their great-great-great-great grandparents and it devastated the entire family. We did not shed a single tear, we just couldn’t. But here I am, my extremities being ripped apart before my very lack-of-eyes. Well, this is the end of my life as I know it. Sadly, today, I, a lonely cactus, died today. But at least you know my story.

                                                                    Sincerely,

                                                                             Prickly

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A Dry Life