Tag Archives: Sarah (Annie’s diaries)

Support and a Secret

Late on a Saturday afternoon, shortly before the end of my 8th grade year, I sat alone in my room, scribbling in a diary my mama had just given me. It’s funny, because it was singularly the most important day … Continue reading

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Time in a Bottle

“Mama! You need to start drinking coffee,” Annie insisted loudly as she burst through the door after tennis practice. “Coffee stains your teeth,” Mama replied quietly from her spot in the lounge, ” and God save the world if you … Continue reading

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Froot Loops for Breakfast

Dear Sarah, Sometimes I think life is a big bowl of Froot Loops. You could just be a happy baby giggling in the middle of it like a big fun bath. Jessi says rainbows are unicorn farts. I figure if … Continue reading

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Sarah’s Window

Friday, September 18, 1998 by Anonymous for her school newspaper Loneliness sucks. You know loneliness. It’s that big hollow pit you imagine at the top of your stomach. Only it’s real, and it hurts so bad rubbing your diaphragm actually … Continue reading

Posted in Annie's World, Annietorials | Tagged , , , , , , , | 32 Comments

Unhappy Medium

I was thirteen, just a month from starting high school, when I first realized I could do it. I had this clever idea for a story where a dragon and a princess were in love and this bumbling prince comes … Continue reading

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Tunnels in the Hay

We lived, really, like right on the edge of the country. It was only two miles in to Jessi’s house in town, and only blocks from there to school. You would never have known it to look out our door. Jessup’s Seed Farm, a … Continue reading

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Booker’s Rabies Test

“Mr. Schilde?” Daddy nodded and extended his hand. The uniformed man, looming large in our doorway, reached out to shake it. “I’m Walt Richards with Animal Control, Mr. Schilde,” the man said. I stared up at the ID badge blinking. He … Continue reading

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Sarah’s Silhouette

The music swelled, coaxing Sarah’s emotions to swell with it. Three weeks she’d danced this dance, six nights each week, but tonight was special. This final performance had drawn their largest crowd, and this dance, the finale, was her favorite. … Continue reading

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Dear Sarah

I always wanted to be a writer, not of back-page gossip columns, or of product descriptions for catalogs, but of fiction, bona fide. The only time I ever said so, Daddy told me I was ridiculous and that I needed … Continue reading

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Pigeon Whispers

In a narrow stoop at 1272 Market Street, a man huddles under a piece of cardboard for warmth. His body no longer knows how to shiver with the cold. He knows he’s not supposed to be there, but he has … Continue reading

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