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“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

— Eleanor Roosevelt, This is My Story (via books-n-quotes)

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“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

— J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (via books-n-quotes)

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“People who try hard to do the right thing always seem mad.”

— Stephen King, The Stand (via books-n-quotes)

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When a student won’t stop complaining

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People often romanticize being an outsider, being the underdog, being different from the rest. But it isn’t easy. Conforming is easy, and that’s why people do it.

viejawanderingsoul, Don’t “be different”, just “be yourself” (via wnq-writers)

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Moral Example

Moral Example Once upon a time there was a little girl born into a world of high moral standards. As she grew, she was continually being told that she had to strive to be a strong moral example. She had failed by the time she was three because when she spoke, she spoke the truth. By the time she was ten, she had learned to speak the truth less bluntly and add humor to it. This pleased all the leaders around her. By the time she hit her teen years, she gave up trying to please others and worked on pleasing herself. She went to the parties, and she drank. She went to the parties, and she laughed loudly. She finally left this world of high moral standards in search of something more. She found it. She found a place of learning and academia. She thrived, but her homeland was still a part of her soul, so after a few years, she went back. She married; she had a beautiful baby girl. She strived to be all that the world of high moral standards expected her to be. She dressed her baby girl in the finest dresses and took her to church, the beacon on morality. Each Sunday, she would look around, and soon she began to notice that the same lips that whispered prayers on Sunday were the same lips that sucked on the whiskey bottle on Saturday. The same lips that whispered prayers on Sunday were the same lips that suckled at a prostitute’s breast on Friday. The same lips that whispered prayers on Sunday were the same lips that whispered wicked gossip and petty insults to those around. She absorbed all of this information, and she waited. She watched as her beautiful baby girl grew up, and she began whispering to her. She whispered about truth and honesty. She whispered about goodness and charity. As her daughter was getting ready to leave the land of high moral standards to seek a new land, she leaned down and whispered the greatest secret of all. It was the secret that kept society running; it was the secret that so many needed to be kept because it was the secret of society’s high moral standards. Her daughter started her car; she rolled down the window to kiss her parents goodbye. 
 That’s when her mom leaned into the car and whispered, “What people seem on the outside are not always what they truly are on the inside.” Her daughter smiled, and as her daughter backed out of the drive, she heard her say, “I know; you’ve taught me to be a strong moral example.” #moralexample #shortstory #flashfiction

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Trip to Town

Once every two weeks—that’s all she had to do this. It began six years ago when her mother was in a car wreck and was unable to drive. So, now, every other Sunday, she got in her car, and she drove her mother thirty miles one way to Wal-Mart, dropped her off, went to the movies, then picked her up in front of Wal-Mart, took her to get something to eat, and then made the drive home. Six years, every two weeks made a total of 156 town trips. Thirty minutes to town, thirty minutes waiting on food, thirty minutes home—a total of 234 hours spent with her mother. Most would find this time together a precious gift. Her mother could have been killed in the auto accident; she could have been crippled and required nursing care. None of that happened. Her mother was still fully functional, just not allowed to drive. During those trips, she had the same conversation each trip—“Who lives there? It used to belong to a family named Smith. They had two daughters. One married a Myers and moved to OKC. I don’t know what happened to her, but her sister…she got pregnant in high school. He married her, but it didn’t last. She married a couple of times after that, but they never lasted.” This all coming from a woman who divorced after having three kids, stayed in an abusive relationship ten years after that, and finally decide that she loved Vodka more than men or her children. She never said a word. She just drove and nodded occasionally. Sunday, 11:00 A.M., picked up mother—check 11:45 A.M., dropped mother at Wal-Mart—check 12:00 P.M.—1:50, watched movie—check 2:00 P.m.—picked up mother from Wal-Mart, twenty minute wait—check 2:20 P.M.—drove by McDonald’s to pick up a large, unsweet iced tea with lemons, extra ice. Things got interesting at 2:22. Mother stepped outside the car in the drive thru to smoke a cigarette. She walked too far away from the car. Mother stood in the open parking lot smoking her cigarette. A car came speeding around the drive-thru. Mother turned, but she couldn’t move. She watched as the 1997 Chevy Cavalier slammed into her mother. Flutters of joy flew up through her stomach to her heart. Could it be? Could a 1997 Chevy Cavalier free her? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled into a parking spot. She jumped out and ran toward her mother lying in the parking lot, crumpled, cigarette still smoking in her twisted hand. The 1997 Chevy Cavalier owner stepped out and slowly moved toward the couple. He was crying, sobbing that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t see her. She leaned over her mother, afraid to put her hand to mother’s neck, afraid of what the results would be. She reached out; she pressed her fingers to her throat. She turned and looked at the sobbing young man. “You didn’t even kill her, you son of a bitch,” she yelled at him. #flashfiction #mother #shortstory