The Best Day of My Life So Far Writing Class
11.01.12
Every Day
Every day is a birthday.
Every class is a party.
Everyone is a survivor of one thing or another.
My senior buds and I were just chilling out and chatting yesterday. We always chat a little at the beginning of class. And suddenly one word after the next, we strung together a phrase. And one phrase after the next, we strung together a poem. And soon it was like a cheering fest of everyone repeating these lines one after another, louder and louder.
“Our creed!” Hattie said.
“Something to go by!” Greta said.
“Whoa!” Everyone got on their feet, canes and all.