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Literature Text
The Sky is Falling
The rain had picked up its speed, almost making the high school student wish he could leave the overcrowded coffee shop.
Frank Iero sat at a booth, by himself, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He had his left elbow on the table, his palm holding his head up. He traced his index finger on the brim of the Styrofoam cup. He lingered his gaze on the many pieces of paper before him, trying to keep his attention on them. But the noise of the coffee shop had made concentrating difficult.
He turned his head, still keeping his chin on his palm, as he looked out of the window. Raindrops had collected on the surface, making it difficult to see outside. Or it could have been the intensity of the storm. Frank sighed and looked back down at the papers in front of him.
He lifted up his cup to his lips, taking a drink. He grimaced slightly, quickly pulling the cup back. He smacked his lips together before pushing his coffee aside. He raised up a hand to flatten the beanie on top of his brown hair before looking back out of the window again.
The rain had begun to lose its speed. Frank chewed on his lip as he craned his neck to see past all of the other people in the shop. The clock on the wall read four-thirty. Frank leaned back in his seat and absent-mindedly wrapped his fingers around the coffee cup.
Should he leave now, or wait a little while longer?
Frank turned his head, running his tongue across his lips. The storm had turned into a drizzle now, but it could change any minute. He narrowed his eyes.
Screw this, he thought, I need to meet up with the guys.
The brunette extended his hands, gathering up the sheets of paper. He turned slightly before opening up his bag beside him. He shoved the papers in there before throwing the flap back over it.
Frank stood up, then, picking up the Styrofoam cup. He curled his fingers around it and leaned over, grabbing the strap of his bag and slinging to over his shoulder.
He made his way over to the trash can, throwing his coffee away. He wiped his palms against his jeans before exiting the coffee shop, the warm atmosphere it brought soon leaving.
Frank lifted up his head to look up at the sky. He narrowed his eyes, feeling raindrops hit his face. He scrunched up his nose as he lowered his head, smacking his lips. He sniffed and turned on his heel, beginning to walk down the street.
The brunette stopped, then, hearing his phone ring within his bag. He turned his torso, reaching out his hands to undo his bag. He shoved a hand into it, wrapping his fingers around his Blackberry. He dragged it out, seeing his friend's—Bob—name flash on the screen. Frank pressed the 'accept call' button before lifting his phone up to his ear.
"Hello—" Frank begun, but, soon, he felt something come into contact with his back, causing him to be knocked over. His phone flew out of his hand and ended up a few feet from where he laid now. Bob's voice could be heard on the other line. The words "what the fuck, Frank?" stuck out.
Despite from being tackled only seconds ago, there was no weight on Frank's back. He pressed his palms into the sidewalk and lifted himself up enough to turn around. His eyes immediately widened.
A boy stood in front of him. Well, he wasn't really a boy; he looked older than Frank. His eyes were wide. The hazel coloring in them seemed to sparkle. He was watching Frank with curiosity, as if he had seen nothing like him before. Frank slowly sat up, noticing that the other was shirtless, revealing pale skin. He licked his lips and made his eyes travel back up to his face, seeing chin-length, straight black hair. Frank furrowed his brow before his gaze drifted off to the side, his eyes widening again.
Amazed at how he didn't notice them before, he, now, couldn't take his eyes off them.
Long white wings were coming out of the other's back. The longer he stared, he discovered that the tips of the feathers were black, and there were flecks of black scattered about, as well.
Frank looked at the boy, mouth open in shock. "What the hell are you?"
The creature flapped his wings.
The rain had picked up its speed, almost making the high school student wish he could leave the overcrowded coffee shop.
Frank Iero sat at a booth, by himself, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. He had his left elbow on the table, his palm holding his head up. He traced his index finger on the brim of the Styrofoam cup. He lingered his gaze on the many pieces of paper before him, trying to keep his attention on them. But the noise of the coffee shop had made concentrating difficult.
He turned his head, still keeping his chin on his palm, as he looked out of the window. Raindrops had collected on the surface, making it difficult to see outside. Or it could have been the intensity of the storm. Frank sighed and looked back down at the papers in front of him.
He lifted up his cup to his lips, taking a drink. He grimaced slightly, quickly pulling the cup back. He smacked his lips together before pushing his coffee aside. He raised up a hand to flatten the beanie on top of his brown hair before looking back out of the window again.
The rain had begun to lose its speed. Frank chewed on his lip as he craned his neck to see past all of the other people in the shop. The clock on the wall read four-thirty. Frank leaned back in his seat and absent-mindedly wrapped his fingers around the coffee cup.
Should he leave now, or wait a little while longer?
Frank turned his head, running his tongue across his lips. The storm had turned into a drizzle now, but it could change any minute. He narrowed his eyes.
Screw this, he thought, I need to meet up with the guys.
The brunette extended his hands, gathering up the sheets of paper. He turned slightly before opening up his bag beside him. He shoved the papers in there before throwing the flap back over it.
Frank stood up, then, picking up the Styrofoam cup. He curled his fingers around it and leaned over, grabbing the strap of his bag and slinging to over his shoulder.
He made his way over to the trash can, throwing his coffee away. He wiped his palms against his jeans before exiting the coffee shop, the warm atmosphere it brought soon leaving.
Frank lifted up his head to look up at the sky. He narrowed his eyes, feeling raindrops hit his face. He scrunched up his nose as he lowered his head, smacking his lips. He sniffed and turned on his heel, beginning to walk down the street.
The brunette stopped, then, hearing his phone ring within his bag. He turned his torso, reaching out his hands to undo his bag. He shoved a hand into it, wrapping his fingers around his Blackberry. He dragged it out, seeing his friend's—Bob—name flash on the screen. Frank pressed the 'accept call' button before lifting his phone up to his ear.
"Hello—" Frank begun, but, soon, he felt something come into contact with his back, causing him to be knocked over. His phone flew out of his hand and ended up a few feet from where he laid now. Bob's voice could be heard on the other line. The words "what the fuck, Frank?" stuck out.
Despite from being tackled only seconds ago, there was no weight on Frank's back. He pressed his palms into the sidewalk and lifted himself up enough to turn around. His eyes immediately widened.
A boy stood in front of him. Well, he wasn't really a boy; he looked older than Frank. His eyes were wide. The hazel coloring in them seemed to sparkle. He was watching Frank with curiosity, as if he had seen nothing like him before. Frank slowly sat up, noticing that the other was shirtless, revealing pale skin. He licked his lips and made his eyes travel back up to his face, seeing chin-length, straight black hair. Frank furrowed his brow before his gaze drifted off to the side, his eyes widening again.
Amazed at how he didn't notice them before, he, now, couldn't take his eyes off them.
Long white wings were coming out of the other's back. The longer he stared, he discovered that the tips of the feathers were black, and there were flecks of black scattered about, as well.
Frank looked at the boy, mouth open in shock. "What the hell are you?"
The creature flapped his wings.
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This Is the Best Day Ever
We weren't strangers, but we weren't friends either. We just knew each other,
or knew of each other. We knew where each other lived. We knew each other's
names.
It was pure coincidence that we got the same hospital room, especially in a
large city such as Detroit.
The most strange coincidence was that we both knew that we were going to die.
You had lung cancer, I had brain cancer.
We were very much alike, you and I, from the kind of music we enjoyed, to
simple habits. Neither of us had family.
The doctors were fascinated with us. When we scooched our beds closer together
just so we could hold hands, or pulses each got stronger...
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fast lately. Pete just nodded rested his head on Patrick's shoulder. Patrick
looked at Pete's greasy hair and m
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