"What’s that big brass gong for?" one of the guests asked. "Why, that’s the talking clock" the man replied. "How does it work?" "Watch", the man said, giving it an ear-shattering pound with a hammer.

Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screamed, "For f*ck sake, you w@nker, it’s 2am in the f*cking morning!!"

Hahahahahahaha!

Good one buddy!

Duration : 0:1:0

Technorati Tags: 7-segment, Clock, display, DIY, LED, make, Wall

The Comcast Experience is a 25.4 feet (7.7 m) tall, 83.3 feet (25.4 m) wide, 2,000 square feet (190 m2) high-definition LED screen situated on a wall in the winter garden. The screen is composed of 6,771 Barco NX-4 LED modules. The installation, designed and produced by Niles Creative Group, premiered on June 6, 2008, and runs eighteen hours each day. The content of the video includes panoramic views of Philadelphia historic sites, images of space, dancers, acrobats and actors moving around a background designed to mimic wood paneling of the walls of the lobby. Another part of the installation displays images of cranes and machinery forming into a clock which tells the correct time of day.

Duration : 0:4:59

Technorati Tags: Acharya, Comcast, Sachin, TV

Debra was twenty two years old, but she looked as if she was only eighteen. Her thick brown hair was naturally wavy, and her eyes were a mixture of light green and brown. She sat on the couch snuggly wrapped up in a wool blanket, her eyes focusing on the fluttering piece of paper that was pinned between a small stool and a broken coffee cup. The balcony door was opened and a cool breeze circulated around the room. Debra unwrapped herself from the blanket, took the piece of paper from underneath the cup and went out to the balcony. Her eyes began to concentrate on the letter, but as she tried to unfold it, the piece of paper which was now fluttering furiously between her fingers, slipped out of her hand and began to sway out of her reach. She looked down over the balcony to check if there was anybody there, but the only person she could see was a man, who had just turned around the block. Debra quickly put on an old pair of jeans, grabbed her jacket and keys locked the door and walked down the stairs. She went around to the back of the building, from where she could see a little of the concrete that made up her balcony floor. She looked around for the piece of paper that had flown over the balcony a few minutes ago, but she could not see it anywhere. The street was still empty but far off she could see the man in a black jacket disappearing as he turned to the right around the corner of the block, as he did she noticed his fist tightly clenching a piece of white paper. She felt a little rain drop hit the tip of her nose, it was a cloudy day, small drops of rain plummeted down from the thick cloud above her and danced around on the concrete as they fell, ‘why did he take it?”She thought to herself and began to run towards the corner where the man had turned. She saw him enter the convenient store across the street and fallowed him inside. When she walked inside it was already pouring. The man with the black jacket was standing with his back faced towards her; he seemed to be looking at the newspapers in front of him. She eyed him anxiously for a few seconds and then directed her gaze towards the lady standing behind the cash register.
‘May I help you?’ she asked, with a slight indifference in her tone.
‘yea…umm, where do you have coffee?’ Debra got the coffee from the back of the store and walked back in the same direction. She noticed that the man in the black jacket had turned around and was walking towards the cash register. He was buying an umbrella. Debra had no doubt he had the letter from Anna clutched in his hands. But the fact that he had taken it made her reluctant to ask him why. Why would a stranger be interested in this letter, and for what reason had he crumpled it up in a ball?
“excuse me sir?”
“yes?”
“That paper you are holding: I think you picked it up when you were passing my building, it fell from my balcony. It’s a letter from my friend”
“Oh, it is…Do you recognize me by any chance?” he asked curiously, without smiling.
“No…. should I?” Debra asked startled from the unexpected question.
“well, we’ve met before” he said as he cleared his throat “I’m Derek, Anna’s Brother.”
As she skimmed the features of his face she realized that he was not lying. He had the same color hair and eyes as his sister, and somehow his features, although more rugged and
masculine in shape still resembled Anna’s.

The house was separated from the others by an old fashioned fence, which was built so that the neighboring houses could be visible to view. The metal wall adjacent to the street was the tallest; it needed to be repainted since the rust had eaten away almost all of the gray paint that was there when Anna was a young girl. But the flowers were still radiant and alive, they were growing wildly around the borders of the house and the fence. On the right side of the yard was a miniature house, built by her grandfather as a storage room, which was now used as a room.
Anna and grandmother were sitting on the balcony chair and enjoying the breeze. It was almost sunset when they heard wolves howling, distinctly in the silence that surrounded the town. Her grandmother Guliko began to wince out of superstition:
“Ach, they are howling right before sunset!” she said.
“Does that matter?” asked Anna.
“It is a bad sign, Anna. I know from experience that wolves bring bad luck; they always bring death with them.”
Anna didn’t answer her. She didn’t believe in things like that. But she thought there was nothing wrong with believing in God, even when she knew in the back of her mind that he didn’t exist, she chose to believe.
She got up and went over to lean against the railings of the balcony, the breeze was getting colder. She listened thoughtfully to the wolves while perusing the neighboring houses of the town. Most of them were old brick homes built by the villagers themselves, and most households had big yards filled with different plants, some yards were covered by vineyards and others were filled with fruit trees and vegetation. She wondered whether it was someone she knew. Or maybe it was just a stranger, ‘unlikely” she thought to herself. It was a small town; almost everybody knew each other. Maybe it was the crazy woman who lives across the street; everyday she chases at least one kid down the street, with her broom high in the air, complaining about how they keep stealing the peaches from her peach tree, which she never had. Then she remembered her father, who was coughing up blood a month ago… ‘It couldn’t be him, don’t be silly’ she thought angrily.
At that moment she heard the metal door give a loud clang, it pushed opened producing a shrill sound from the rust. It was her father, his back was slightly hunched and his eyes downcast, he was holding a glass bottle in his hand. As he started walking towards the little room in the yard, Anna’s heart began to race; she watched his steps intently and with composure, until the hair on her arms began to stand. She walked down the stairs, slowly with her eyes fixed on the room which her father had entered; a strange feeling came over her, as she realized the significance of her grandmothers words. She knocked on the door, each one was a quiet and hesitant knock, and the door responded with nothing as the silent wind blew against her pale skin. In the distance she could hear a single wolf hauling at the setting sun. She stood there hesitating to knock again. What if she knocked louder this time, would there be an answer? Or would she slam the door opened in paranoia and scream before realizing that her father was just fast asleep? Her muscles contracted from fear and a shiver began from her shoulders to her waist. She twisted the handle of the door, and gave it a push. The door squeaked as it opened, and revealed green flaky wall paper and a small fire place that was radiating orange and red flames from the newly lit fire. A drop of sweat slid down from her forehead, slightly relieved she opened the door wider and peaked into the room. She saw from the corner of her eye her father sitting sleepily on the edge of the hard wooden bed. It was placed across the fireplace under a large dysfunctional clock, whose arrows never managed to move more than once in the day’s duration. His eyes could hardly maintain focus, and as he gazed at the fireplace the shadows around his wrinkled skin danced alongside the flickering flames of the fire.

She slipped away, and made herself comfortable under a neighboring birch tree whose shadow was about to dissipate into the oncoming darkness of dusk. She sat thinking of the letter her father had received from Derek, her youngest brother. Anna used to know him very well only a few years ago. Now she had no clue what he was doing. He use to be quite even in the family; he told her he had secrets that he couldn’t even tell her. But Anna always doubted that they could ever be anything even remotely close to being sinister. She laughed when he said things like that; she always made fun of him. She remembered that he was always kindhearted, more caring than two of her older brothers, but less responsible. But now after two years of not knowing anything about her brother’s life Anna was disappointed to find out that the only letter that her brother had ever sent in the past two years was recently burnt by her own father (or at least that’s what he told her). Nor did she feel satisfied about the fact that her father had began to drink again, and was becoming more and more reluctant to talk to her.
Anna had her own place in the city; there she lived on the twelfth floor of the thirteen floor building with her best friend Debra. Anna had a slight phobia of heights but she was forced to get used to it over the years due an odd discrepancy in price between upper and lower floors of the building. Since the location and rent were so undeniably alluring it would quite frankly be unreasonable even in Anna’s acrophobic mind to refuse to live in the apartment. With Debra’s help she managed to acknowledge the fact that she wouldn’t fall of the building unless there was an earthquake, and decided that the only way she could get over her fear was to ‘fully embrace the danger’ of sitting on the balcony. Now that she was in her old home she felt more at peace, not only because the house was only two floors high but because she had grown up in the village.
From outside she could see her mother turning on the light in the kitchen, and searching the cabinets for some ingredients. She pulled out a plastic bag from the cabinet where she kept her spices and headed for the door. Anna got up from underneath the birch tree, and walked towards the house entrance where the remaining light of the day made it possible for her to be seen. “Where are you going?” Anna asked.
“I’m going next door, Margaret asked me for some herbs” she answered.
‘oh, ok’
“Where is your father?”
“He’s resting in there” she said as she pointed to the tiny room adjacent to the cement pathway that led from the house to the exit door of the fence.
“Why don’t you go inside, it’s getting chilly”
As Anna opened the door of the house she remembered the letter from Derek. He had probably written it to her mother, and somehow her father had found it. Why her father was so upset? she thought to herself.

OMG i absolutely love this idea! It is amazing i think it will be a cute and very sad story for all ages and i would totally read this for sure if you ever go t it published!! I especially like the fact that the stranger that gets the note is the brother i expected it to be like a murderer that goes for the family so omg people are gonna think so maney amazing things and i think it will go far!:)

The attack was meant to strike at the building where Iraqi officials had plotted against Bush, organized other unspecified terrorist actions and directed repressive internal security measures, senior U.S. officials said.

Clinton, speaking in a televised address to the nation at 7:40 last night, said he ordered the attack to send three messages to the Iraqi leadership: "We will combat terrorism. We will deter aggression. We will protect our people."

Clinton said he ordered the attack after receiving "compelling evidence" from U.S. intelligence officials that Bush had been the target of an assassination plot and that the plot was "directed and pursued by the Iraqi Intelligence Service."

"It was an elaborate plan devised by the Iraqi government and directed against a former president of the United States because of actions he took as president," Clinton said. Bush led the coalition that drove Iraq from Kuwait in the 1991 Persian Gulf War. "As such, the Iraqi attack against President Bush was an attack against our country and against all Americans," Clinton said.

After two months of investigation and mounting evidence, Clinton became convinced during two "exhaustive and exhausting" meetings last week that Iraq was indeed behind a foiled car-bomb plot to kill Bush during his visit to Kuwait April 14-16, a senior administration official said.

Aides met with Clinton Wednesday in the White House residence to present a summary of the evidence gathered by FBI and intelligence sources, the official said. On Thursday, Attorney General Janet Reno and CIA Director R. James Woolsey presented the president with their formal reports.

Clinton ordered the attack Friday, but the raid was delayed a day so it would not fall on the Muslim sabbath, the official said. "About a dozen" U.S. allies and "friends in the region" were told in advance that the attack was coming; the reaction, according to the official, was mostly favorable. British Prime Minister John Major issued a statement last night supporting Clinton’s action.

The missiles struck late at night — between 1 a.m. and 2 a.m. Baghdad time — because Clinton wished to minimize possible deaths of innocent civilians.

But Iraq, which has consistently denied involvement in any assassination plot against Bush, said there were "many civilian casualties" as a result of the Tomahawk attack, the Reuter news service reported. It quoted Iraqi civil defense officials as saying three people were killed and four rescued.

Iraqi President Saddam Hussein’s ruling Revolution Command Council denounced the raid as "cowardly aggression" and said Washington’s reason for launching it was "fabricated by the vile Kuwaiti rulers in coordination with agencies in the U.S. administration."

An Iraqi Ministry of Information spokesman said the missiles hit a residential area, where Reuter reported that three houses were destroyed.

From Baghdad, Reuter reported smoke and what appeared to be a huge blaze could be seen rising from the site, about two miles from the center of the city in a residential district. But reporters were not immediately given access to the site.

Clinton was persuaded to act by three kinds of evidence, a senior intelligence official said last night. First, key suspects in the plot confessed to FBI agents in Kuwait. Second, FBI bomb experts painstakingly linked the captured car bomb to previous explosives made in Iraq. Third, unspecified intelligence assessments concluded that Saddam meant seriously the threats he has made against Bush. Other classified intelligence sources supported this analysis, the official said.

The combination made the CIA "highly confident that the Iraqi government, at the highest levels, directed its intelligence service to assassinate former president Bush," said the intelligence official.

Clinton had harsh words for Saddam — Bush’s arch-nemesis during the Persian Gulf War — in his Oval Office address. After listing the Iraqi leader’s offenses against the world and his own people, Clinton said: "This attempt at revenge by a tyrant against the leader of the world coalition that defeated him in war is particularly loathsome and cowardly."

Indeed, the tone of the whole speech was notably forceful and stern, coming from the often avuncular Clinton. He saved his kind words for the men and women involved in the investigation and the military strike: "You have my gratitude, and the gratitude of all Americans," he said.

The action was the second major U.S. military operation conducted during Clinton’s presidency, coming just two weeks after U.S. forces participated in a multinational strike against forces in Somalia allied with warlord Mohamed Farah Aideed. Unlike that operation, the raid against Iraq was taken unilaterally, entirely apart from the U.N. sanctions still in place against the Iraqi regime.

"This crime was committed against the United States, and we elected to respond and to exercise our right of self defense" under Article 51 of the U.N. charter, Defense Secretary Les Aspin said. "Tonight’s unilateral action in no way diminishes U.S. support for coalition action or for the authority of the United Nations."

Bush — at his home in Kennebunkport, Maine — was terse when reached by the Associated Press. "I’m not in the interview business, but thank you very much for calling," he said.

Administration sources said Bush’s friend and former national security adviser Brent Scowcroft was kept apprised of the investigation, and Clinton called Bush minutes after the attack was launched to give him the news. Secretary of State Warren Christopher flew to Kennebunkport yesterday to brief the former president.

Clinton relied heavily on evidence found by FBI bomb experts linking the Iraqi Intelligence Service to a 175-pound car bomb found April 14 in Kuwait City. According to senior intelligence and law enforcement officials, key pieces of the bomb — including the remote-control detonator, the plastic explosives, the electronic circuitry and the wiring — bore an overwhelming resemblance to components of bombs previously recovered from the Iraqis.

The White House press office distributed photographs of circuit boards and detonators taken from earlier Iraqi bombs, alongside photos of the same elements from the bomb meant for Bush. Even to the untrained eye, there were clear similarities.

"Certain aspects of these devices have been found only in devices linked to Iraq," an intelligence official said.

Clinton also had the confessions of the two alleged leaders of the 16 suspects arrested by Kuwait when the plot was uncovered. Both are Iraqi nationals. Ra’ad Asadi and Wali Abdelhadi Ghazali told FBI investigators detailed to Kuwait that they met in Basra, Iraq, on April 12 with "individuals they believed to be associated with the Iraqi Intelligence Service," according to a senior U.S. intelligence official.

They were given a vehicle loaded with hidden explosives. Ghazali told the FBI he was recruited specifically to kill Bush. Asadi also told the FBI he was to guide the car bomb, driven by his partner, to Kuwait University, where Bush was to be honored by the Emir of Kuwait for his leadership in the gulf war.

Administration officials said the suspects told the FBI that the bomb was to be parked near the motorcade route. From a vantage point 300 to 500 yards away, Ghazali would set off the bomb using a remote control. FBI bomb specialists estimated the bomb would have been lethal for nearly a quarter-mile.

FBI agents were told if the remote control device failed, the bomb was to be detonated by a timing device on a street in Kuwait City named for Bush. They were also told that Ghazali had a "bomb belt" he would use if all else failed; he was to wear it, approach Bush and blow them both up.

There have been reports that the suspects held in Kuwait have been tortured by Kuwaiti officials, but a senior law enforcement official said last night that FBI agents "believe they were not." Nevertheless, the official said, confessions are often unreliable, which is why the investigators placed "an especially great emphasis" on the conclusions of the bomb experts.

The CIA recalled that, after the gulf war, Saddam was heard on official Iraq media promising to hunt down and punish Bush, even after he left office. A senior intelligence official said the CIA also had classified evidence proving that the car bomb was meant for Bush, from Saddam.

"We could not and have not let such action against our nation go unanswered," Clinton said in his televised address. "From the first days of our revolution, America’s security has depended on the clarity of this message: Don’t tread on us."

Clinton had criticized the Iraqi regime on Friday for failing to allow continuous monitoring of its missile test sites by the United Nations. The monitoring was accepted by Baghdad at the end of the 1991 gulf war, as part of a series of agreements meant to strip Iraq of its weapons of mass destruction.

But U.S. officials did not cite that dispute in explaining the action last night, and U.S. warplanes involved in policing U.N. sanctions against Iraq did not take part.

Congressional leaders from both parties supported Clinton’s action. Senate Minority Leader Robert J. Dole (R-Kan.) called the president from Charleston, W.Va., to give a thumbs-up. "I think it was a good thing. I support it. If I can help, let me know," Dole told Clinton, according to a CNN interview.

The U.S. attack was initiated at 4:22 p.m. (EDT), when two ships — the destroyer USS Peterson in the Red Sea and the cruiser USS Chancellorsville in the Persian Gulf — began firing a total of 23 Tomahawk cruise missiles at the Iraqi Intelligence Service headquarters complex in downtown Baghdad.

The missiles, which each cost an estimated $1.1 million, typically fly 50 to 100 feet above the ground and navigate by radar according to detailed maps stored in onboard computers. Each missile was capable of carrying up to 1,000 pounds of conventional explosives on their flight to Baghdad of up to two hours.

Officials said the number of missiles was set after detailed analysis of what would be needed to ruin the complex. Navy officials programmed most of the missiles to hit specific aim-points at a building near the center, which Aspin called the "hub of . . . operational planning, interrogations, communication, and computer operations" for the Iraqi Intelligence Service.

Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Colin L. Powell told reporters at the Pentagon last night that a detailed assessment of the damage was not immediately available. But Powell said he had "preliminary information that a large number of them impacted where they were supposed to."

Officials made clear that no further military action was planned and warned Iraq not to retaliate. Powell said the Navy had moved several ships closer to Iraq so the United States could respond to any Iraqi retaliation.

An aerial picture of the principal targeted building, shown to reporters at the Pentagon last night, showed a large, six-story structure with three wings located off the central corridors. Four satellite dishes sat atop the building’s roof.

Nearby were various buildings labeled as administrative, housing and support offices or vehicle storage sheds, and the entire complex — roughly a football field in length — was surrounded by a wall. U.S. officials cited the complex’s isolation and the fact that the attack was timed to occur during Baghdad’s nighttime as factors that would reduce the number of innocent casualties.

Powell and Aspin declined to say how many people were expected to be in the complex but said a portion of it functioned around the clock. The attack was not expected to "take down the entire complex," Powell said, but to ruin Iraq’s ability to continue using it.

He noted that the complex was attacked and damaged once before by the United States, during the 1991 Operation Desert Storm bombing campaign aimed at pressuring Iraq to withdraw its forces from Kuwait. But Iraq had since rebuilt the headquarters.

Aspin said the Iraqi Intelligence Service is the country’s largest such agency and was responsible for providing security for Saddam’s regime, repressing internal opposition, collecting foreign intelligence and conducting terrorist operations abroad, including the planned assassination attempt.

Asked to explain why the United States picked that target and did not go after Saddam himself, Aspin said, "It’s very difficult to target a single individual. It’s very difficult to capture a single individual. Dropping bombs on the hope that you’re going to get a single individual is a very, very demanding task."

Aspin said, "What we’re doing is sending a message against the people who were responsible for planning this operation. . . . {If} anybody asks the same people to do it again, they will remember this message."
who said I support Bush- I merely stated a question and used a liberal media source as my reference. no need to start accusations of how high or low peoples intellect are.
AZE you should’ve read all that it was the big news in 1993, why have we forgotten.
Shadi this was the news in 1993 have you forgotten? not gonna read it – it was a liberal media news source! admitting what we don’t want to admit today!

Slow down! You’re gonna blow my web browser. LOL 4 an answer, they don’t wanna admit it, and they’re anti-america and anti-troops. Check this out if you havn’t seen it.

Duration : 0:1:12

Technorati Tags: custom neon signs, led art, lighted art, lighted sculpture, lighted sculptures, metal art, neon, neon abstract, neon art, neon art gallery, neon artist, neon artists, neon arts, neon artwork, neon clocks, neon decor, neon gallery, neon items, neon light, neon light art, neon light sculpture, neon light sculptures, neon lighting, neon lights, neon metal, neon sculpture, neon sculptures, neon sign, neon signs, neon wall art, neon wall clock, wall neon

Emma woke up to the sound of her arm clock radio playing classical musical softly in her ear. She threw the blanket off her, rolled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. It was Sunday morning, the first day of revival. She crawled up on her bed, grabbed her Bible from the nightstand, and opened it to Psalms. She began reading Chapter 95.
1 O come, let us sing unto the Lord: let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation.
2 Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms.
3 For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods.
4 In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also.
5 The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land.
6 O come, let us worship and bow down: let us kneel before the Lord our Maker.
Worship. She reread the last verse and again that word stuck out to her. What is true worship? she asked herself. She walked over to the desk on the other side of the room and picked up the Thesaurus.
Worship-adoration, love, reverence, respect, devotion, adulation
She thought on this a minute and then read the entire chapter over again this time keeping the definition in mind. Just as she finished verse 6, a telephone ring interrupted her. “Hello”
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning” she echoed at the familiar sound of Jaslyn’s voice.
“What are you doing?”
Emma closed her Bible and sat it back on the nightstand. “I was just reading.”
“Oh sorry I hope I didn’t disturb you.” she replied in an apologetic tone.
“No that’s okay. To be very honest I am glad you called because I did not realize it was so late. I have to start getting ready.”
“Oh, well I won’t bother you too long, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to eat after church today. Ryan is out of town this weekend and I did not want to have to eat by myself. I think Katie may be going too.”
Emma still found it hard to believe that her best friend and Ryan were dating much less engaged. Ryan and Jaslyn had grew up right alongside each other from the time they were old enough to attend the “Bethel Holiness Academy”. Secretly Jaslyn had yearned for him although no one except Emma knew it. Year after year passed and still her love was unrequited, until two years before. Jaslyn had followed in Emma’s example and also began to pray earnestly for him and for God’s will. After many prayers offered up on his behalf, he finally began to listen to God and realize just how wonderful Jaslyn really was.
“Sure I’ll go,” she answered happy herself to have someone to fellowship with. “I’ll see you at church.”
“Alright, love you, bye.” she quickly stated then hung up the receiver. Emma did the same and then crawled down onto the floor next to her bed and began praying.
As usual, Daniel Miller was one of the first names she called out. She often laughed at herself for doing so because the last time she had saw him was his graduation night four years ago, but yet somehow she seem to be able to pray for him most of the time more than she could pray for those that were actually in her life. The truth was that no matter what was happening in her life he was never far from her mind and at times when she felt weary in her praying she would always think back to that night; the night that she had touched him. Somehow, thinking of this always gave her the strength to carry on and now she could finally see that God had given her this burden for him not only for his salvation, but for hers as well.
~
Emma pulled up into the church parking lot just as the Pastor had dismissed for Sunday school. She quickly grabbed her things from the passenger seat, locked her car door and ran to join Jaslyn and Katie who were among the many people going to their Sunday school classes. “Hey” they both said in unison while Emma joined step with them. “Hey she replied back.
“So how has your morning been so far?” Katie asked while leaning slightly forward in order to see her on Jaslyn’s left side.
“It has been pretty good. And I have a feeling it’s going to get even better.”
~
“Class dismissed” the Sunday school teacher said at ten minutes till eleven. The 15 or 20 people in the young adult class all got to their feet and headed out the door back toward the sanctuary.
“That was a good lesson,” Jaslyn said when they were almost to the building.
“Ya, it was. But you know the weird thing? Just this morning I was studying that very same scripture.” Emma said while looking over at each of her friends trying to determine their reaction.
Katie thought about it for a minute then replied, “Maybe it’s weird to you, but maybe it’s just God’s way of telling you to worship.”
“That’s what I was just thinking about” Emma said entering church with a new determination to worship God more than ever.
They walked into church to find that it was full and a seat was hard to find. They finally located one three pews from the back and sat down with Katie on the inside, Jaslyn, and then Emma.
“Good morning” Pastor Thomas said with the always-present grin on his face. “I’m so glad to see each and every one of you on this fine morning. I would like to say welcome to all of our visitors. We are so glad to have you join us this morning to gather in the presence of the Almighty King. Please stand with me and let’s sing a song in this red-backed hymnal, turn to page 333.” The pianist began a catchy rhythm then shortly after the drums chimed in followed by the congregation and then a chorus of tambourines. Each individual sang loud and confident as if they could actually envision the words of the song as they sang. Emma sang along trying to truly comprehend the meaning of its words.
Some bright morning when this life is over I’ll fly away
To a home on God’s celestial shore I’ll fly away.
She lifted her hands and closed her eyes as she tried to worship God as she knew he should be worshipped. Free from every care with a mind open only to God. After singing the song two full times, they had just reached the end of the chorus when Jaslyn tapped her on the shoulder. She flashed her a bright smile then whispered in her ear, “Look at the front row on the left side of the church, the person standing closest to the wall.”
Emma leaned slightly to her right trying to see around everyone standing in front of her but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t see the person Jaslyn was talking about. The Pastor told everyone they could be seated then called the ushers up to receive the offering. The church bowed their heads as Bro. Gene said prayer over the offering, but Emma couldn’t take her eyes off of the spot that her friend had indicated. If only Sis. Pearlie would move I could see them. And practically before she could even finish her thought the women leaned forward in order to grab her purse from the floor and Emma saw what Jaslyn had. Sitting on the front row of the church with his head bowed and his hands crossed in his lap was Daniel Miller.

Chapter

Emma sat motionless unable to move for what seemed like hours until she heard Bro. Gene’s booming “Amen” signaling the end of his prayer. She quickly looked away as the church lifted their heads and the ushers began passing around the offering plates. She chanced another look at him and found him watching the usher as he made his way down the aisle. Oh no, he will see me was the first thought that popped into her head. Desperate not to let that happen she did the only thing that she could think of at the time, she quickly got up and walked out trying her best to keep her composure until she was at least out of the building. She quickly but quietly closed the sanctuary door behind her and practically ran to the front entrance door of the church. She walked around the corner and sat down on a log that created the borders for the garden that ran alongside the church. She put her head in her hands and wept like she hadn’t wept in years. Jaslyn came out only minutes later and found her this way. “What in the world is wrong Emma?” she asked while down next to her. “Are you crying because he’s here?”
Emma lifted her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks then from her eyes that had already begun to swell from the crying.
“Are you?” she asked again.
Emma shyly shook her head and wiped the new tears that falling down her cheeks which seemed uncontrollable.
“Why in the world are you crying Emma? I thought you would be happy. How many years have you waited for this? He’s finally here. All of that praying you have done paid off. What is there to cry about?”
“I don’t know. I guess even though I was praying I just never thought that I would see him again. I was trusting God to save him, but I guess deep down I was always assuming it would be somewhere else. I never suspected it to be here. I never expected him to show up like this.” She paused long enough to wipe away more tears. “Oh Jaslyn what am I going to do. I don’t know if I can face him. It was so easy to just pray for him when I didn’t have to see him. I guess in a way praying for him just kind of became a habit, maybe I never really expected God to save him.”
“Emma you listen to me. I know how hard you have been praying for this man. I know the hours, the meals, and all of the sacrifices you’ve made for him. You can’t sit here and tell me that it all meant nothing that it was all just in vain. I refuse to believe that and refuse to believe that he’s here by sheer coincidence. He’s here because God heard all of the prayers that were being said for him and I don’t know anyone that has offered more than you. Now as for what you are going to do, you are going to get up from here and stop letting the devil beat you down over this, we’re going to go back in that church, worship God and forget all about Daniel Miller. God has led him here for a reason and there’s nothing that we can do for him except pray so don’t even try to worry yourself about anything because that will accomplish nothing. All we can do now is pray….some more” she said adding the last bit sarcastically on behalf of all of the hours they had already spent doing just that. “Now are you coming or am I going to have to drag you?”
Jaslyn reached over and grabbed Emma’s hand helping her to her feet. “Thank you” she said to her friend while hugging her tight. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
The girls entered the church hand-in-hand and sat back down in their seats. By the time they had come back Bro. Gene had already begun his sermon and everyone sat quietly intent on hearing what he had to say. Because of this thankfully she could no longer see Daniel through the throngs of people. She knew if she could have seen him, she would have looked over in his direction every few seconds so she thanked God for providing a way to conceal him so she could pay attention to the message.
Church was dismissed and everyone in the building began to rise and leave their seats except Katie, Jaslyn, and Emma. Emma remained because she didn’t really know what to do concerning Daniel. Should I go talk to him, would he think of me as rude if I didn’t? Jaslyn sat and watched Emma wanting her to go talk to Daniel but knowing that in the end she probably wouldn’t, and Katie stood up to leave then realized that neither one of them were and quickly sat back down. “Why are you both just sitting here?” she questioned.
“Do you think I should go talk to him?” asked Emma completely ignoring her question. She glanced back up at him and noticed that he was gathered around the Mathis’ talking with them. He always was close to them for some reason. “No I guess I won’t. I’m hungry where are we eating?” She tried to put on her biggest smile as if nothing was wrong and thankfully, neither of the girls persisted.
They all got up and began to walk out while Jaslyn called back, “I was thinking we could go somewhere kind of nice instead of fast food. After all this is Sunday morning.”
“Wherever Jaslyn, just tell us where and we’ll meet you there.”
“Okay then, Carabba’s it is.”
Emma brightened slightly at this for it was her favorite restaurant and she knew that Jaslyn hadn’t forgotten this when choosing. She was grateful that her friend had done so because now was one time she really needed cheering up. But before she had even left the church she had already that no matter what Daniel Miller did or had done she wasn’t going to let that get in the way, especially not today because it was a rarity that Katie, Jaslyn, and herself were able to get together by themselves so she would not be the reason it was spoiled.

Okay, I know that it’s kind of rough, I’m not finished with it.

this is Part 2 of the story. Part 1 explained about Emma and Daniel, how she won’t date him because he’s not saved, then after she refuses him he leaves for four years, then it picks up where he has just came back.

Please give me your honest and a serious opinion.
It is suppose to be the same Sunday, sorry if it was unclear.

I think it’s pretty good so far. Just remeber, something like that may not sell well…publishers (and the ppl who read novels) may not like something with a lot of religion in it….don’t get me wrong, I’m a Christian myself…but it just might not sell well (unless of course, you see a Christian publisher that shares your views).
I also thought that the area, the setting could use a bit more of a description…but maybe I’m wrong. I’m not really sure.
One thing I do know is NOT to post things to freely on the net…espcially if it hasn’t been copyrighed…anybody could steal it.
Good luck!

Duration : 0:3:16

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Chapter One

Vanessa
"Omigod, I’m soo sorry, Vanessa."
"Did you ask her to go apesSHOOT on her mom and get sent to live with her aunt and family?"
"No-"
"Then shut up." Vanessa rolled her eyes at her friend Abby. Abby meant well, but Vanessa wasn’t in the mood to put up with anything. Because in 15 minutes her mom would be home with Vanessa’s dysfuctional cousin, Harlow, and her world would be over. On Saturday, instead of going to Brian Kentwood’s totally awesome, totally POPULAR house party, she would be showing Harlow around town. At least all the popular people would be at Brian’s party so they wouldn’t see her with this purple hair-tattoed-pierced lunatic.
"I’m just saying you don’t have to be so hard on her, V. That’s all", Vanessa heard Abby huff her lips on the end of the line, "Well, I see you’re in one of your moods. Catcha later, then?"
"Sure, Abs. Yeah, bye." Vanessa hung up the phone and exaimined the clock on her wall. Blue with white polka dots. 5:47.
Her time as a normal teenager was up.

Harlow
Harlow smiled at the dice set in her hands. It was a gift from the person she had been sitting with on the plane to her Auntie Clara’s house in Colorado. It’d been a pretty long flight from San Francisco, California, but thankfully Harlow sat next to this cool old black guy who taught her how to play five dice. Things like that always happened to her- she had a certain spark with people that made her reach out to everyone she met.
"Harlow?" Harlow looked up and smiled to the familiar sight of her Auntie Clara running towards her through the airport parking lot, carrying a giant jingling bag, no doubt full of PTA papers and her book club book of the month. Clara was the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect aunt. She was always polite and ladylike, with a prim little smile. Harlow wondered from time to time if Clara and her own mother, Agnes, were actually related. "Harlow!"
"Auntie Clara!", Harlow yelled excitedly and embraced her aunt in a hug, "I missed you. How’s everyone doing? I haven’t heard from anyone in a while."
"Great, great!", Clara grinned and pulled away from Harlow’s hug to inspect her favorite niece, "Harlow Kaitlyn Jones, did you dye your hair?" Harlow coyly pulled at the ends of her newly dyed purple mop.
"It’s quite possible. Now let us flee, I have so much to tell you!" Harlow laughed and shook her fists, making the almost forgotten dice set jingle in her grasp.
"What’s that? That jingle?"
"Oh, just a dice set thingy. A gift from the kindly old gentlemen on the plane- he taught me how to play five dice." Clara laughed and rolled her eyes, "What?"
"That’s just so typical… you! God I missed you. Let’s scram!", Harlow smiled and let Clara lead her to the giant tofu colored mom-van in the parking lot.

When they were all strapped in, Harlow asked the inevitable. "So… how’s Vanessa?" Clara froze, eyes on the pavement and stringy trees in front of her, hands gripping the steering wheel. Vanessa was the surliest of her three children, and was Harlow’s age. She was also completely against Harlow staying with them, claiming it’d ruin her chances at popularity. What a drama queen.
"She’s… Vanessa. You remember her." Harlow chuckled- she did remember Vanessa. She was perfect; she took after Clara. Long, wavy blonde hair, pale skin, brown eyes. A cute little smile and laugh. She was the age as Harlow, but always seemed a little older. She didn’t find wonder in anything anymore and had grown up faster than Harlow. Example: Harlow’s first kiss was at 14 with her boyfriend, Matt. Vanessa’s first kiss was at 12 at a party with some random guy. When Harlow was 14 and Vanessa was 13 and three quarters (she refused to be younger than Harlow), Vanessa admitted that she had her first beer at a party over the weeekend. Harlow had her first drink when she was 16, at a family New Year’s party. And it was disgusting.
"Well, I’m excited to see her!"
"Oh honey, she’s excited to see you too!" That was a lie. That was such a lie, and Clara knew it. But sometimes a white lie can hide a family’s black sheep.
E? Wow haha. It’s not a poem, by the way.
Ahh, I should clear that up. I should say that Vanessa and Harlow were friends on Facebook or something.
Apeshoot= Y!A friendly version of the word apesh!t.
Harlow doesn’t have anything physically or mentally wrong with her, Vanessa just labels her as ‘dysfunctional’ because she reminds her of all the things she lacks as a human being, such as the ability to open up to others, to be yourself, and the fact that Harlow doesn’t compromise herself for anyone or anything.

It wasn’t terrible in the least. You have a good start. Love the last line: "Sometimes a white lie can hide a family’s black sheep" (Something to consider: you can take out the phrase "a family’s" though, because black sheep is a commonly used metaphor for the oddball of the family. But you don’t have to. Sounds good either way)

If you want to, give up. If you don’t, try something else. Writing as a high schooler has that advantage c: