Micah Park Biffle

A Murdered Love  I started my morning as I always have. I woke up, smashed the dismiss button on my alarm and rose from my bed. I tossed my blankets from my body and turned myself so me feet could fall freely to the ground.  I gave out a yawn of exhaustion, as I rubbed my eyes to clear my sense of early morning confusion and slight resentment of waking before the sun. I then stood off my bed and turned around to tidy its rambled mess. Making sure my bed is in order so I am not in disgust of a disheveled bed after the end of my work.  Having my bed in order gives me pride in my rest, it shows I care enough about where I lay my head. After making my bed I walked over to where my towels hang and wrapped one around my waist. I then opened my door with half opened eyes and silent thoughts.  I walked over to the bathroom, closed the door, hung my towel and started the shower. After about fifteen seconds, I jumped in the shower. While in the shower I looked thro...

A Murdered Love of War Three hundred and sixty-five days since she held him in her arms. Her whole body swept up in anxious fright and joy. She thinks to herself, "Will he remember me? Will he still love me?" She throws on her best dress and lipstick; looks herself in the mirror and says, " I am gonna go the hair salon and strike myself the hair of an angel!" Still looking herself in the mirror she twirls around with a large smile, "Oh my, I can feel my heart beating against my chest." She smiles and lets out a small giggle. She stops twirling and slides her hands down her sides, over her hips to make sure the dress forms perfectly to her body. She then places a hat upon her head to hide her wild hair before it is touched by her stylist Mary. She quickly steps over to her closet, picks up her red heels and she rushes out her room and down the stairs. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and places on her heels. While struggling to keep her ...