Think: Who Has Vans, Huh? Soccer Moms

I Do Not Want To Pass The Time. I Want To Grab Hold Of It And Leave My Mark Upon The World.

Time Has No Meaning. I Feel As If I Have Been Left In The Desert To Die And Am Eagerly Awaiting The Vultures To Begin Their Work And End My Misery.

She Was Tired Of Being Told How It Was By This Generation, Who’d Botched Things So Badly. They’d Sold Their Children A Pack Of Lies: God And Country. Love Your Parents. All Is Fair. And Then They’d Sent Those Boys, Her Brother, Off To Fight A Great Monster Of A War That Maimed And Killed And Destroyed Whatever Was Inside Them. Still They Lied, Expecting Her To Mouth The Words And Play Along. Well, She Wouldn’t. She Knew Now That The World Was A Long Way From Fair. She Knew The Monsters Were Real.

The Sun Has Blessed You," Sarita Used To Say. "look How He Has Left His Kisses On Your Face For All To See And Be Jealous." "the Sun Loves You More," I Said, Rubbing My Hands Over Her Dry Arms, The Color Of An Aged Wine Gourd, And She Laughed. But This Is Not India And We Are Not Prized For Our Freckles Here. The Sun Is Not Allowed To Show His Love.

The Library Card Is A Passport To Wonders And Miracles, Glimpses Into Other Lives, Religions, Experiences, The Hopes And Dreams And Strivings Of All Human Beings, And It Is This Passport That Opens Our Eyes And Hearts To The World Beyond Our Front Doors, That Is One Of Our Best Hopes Against Tyranny, Xenophobia, Hopelessness, Despair, Anarchy, And Ignorance.