The day arrived,when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears—an altar for the beloved one's departure,for sister-hood is no more,for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscule came like a phantom,the mournful,gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.
Oh really?” Megan said while waggling her eyebrows. “What skills are we talking about and which room are they useful in?” Ella rolled her eyes at her little sister. “Megan, you just single handedly set the women’s movement back twenty years.” “Oh, Ella, on the contrary. The women’s movement involves many theories of women taking back their sexual prowess in the bedroom as a way to challenge the dominant alpha male in the relationship. Seeing women as sexual equals is a very relevant and useful tool for the advancement of the equality for women in all realms of society.
Henri said our names were fitting because we were destined to be together in our old age, like our great-great-aunts. Two gray old ladies in the bodies of teenage girls. Someday we’d live in a big house with faded curtains, a dozen or so cats, and a handful of our marbles long ago lost. On all accounts—our destiny, her clairvoyance, and our soon-to-be missing marbles—I believed her.
He thinks you're pretty." Genevieve yawned. "Guys always think you're pretty.""Well people think you look like me," I responded."They're only being nice." Her voice was hurt as she curled closer to me."They aren't being nice. You're beautiful, smart, and you know who you are. You're never afraid of saying what you believe in. I never want you to forget that, Genevieve," I spoke tenderly as I watched her eyes start to sag. "I love you, Genevieve.
Do you think Bubbles wants Chinese food because it's made out of cats?" Genevieve questioned, shoveling a big bite into her mouth."Genevieve, that's just gross and wrong. Don't say things like that. Bubbles is a dog, and their stomachs are bottomless pits. They'll eat anything and everything in sight."Genevieve quickly swallowed. "Well, Bobby said in China they eat cats.""Gen, I assure you, we.are.not eating cats," I responded slowly trying to make sure another food wasn't crossed off her 'will eat' list. It was ever growing shorter."All lies!" Genevieve proclaimed, sticking her fork high in the air with a piece of chicken, only to have it fall, never touching the floor. "See? Cat!
Nobody could hold the same place in your heart as your sister. Love or hate her, she was the only person who grew up exactly like you, who knew the secrets of your household—the laughter that only the walls of your house contained or the screaming at a level low enough the neighbors couldn’t hear, the passive aggressive compliments or the little put-downs. Only your sister could know how it felt to grow up in the house that made you you.