7 Day Writing Prompt Challenge: Prompt #4 Random Word of the Day

I must admit I had no idea what to write for this day. I just started work so I haven't had a lot of time to write as I had hoped and as I wrote in my last post, out of respect for 9/11 I thought it would be best not to post anything for the challenge. But I finally wrote Day 4 and although it's short, I hope you all will enjoy!

Estranger

Estranger: the one who estranges another.
She wouldn’t consider herself an estranger.
But who would ever admit something like that?
Admit that they refuse to talk to someone who loves them?
Why would anyone want to estrange another?
Maybe that person they used to love betrayed them?
Maybe they just didn’t want to love that person anymore?
But doesn’t everyone want to continue loving people?
Was she just as cold hearted as people thought she was?
Questions and more questions.
One after another.
……
More questions unaswered.
So why is she the estranger?

7 Day Writing Prompt Challenge: Prompt #3 One Object

So I'm not sure how I feel about this one. Since the final day is a prompt to put all 7 days worth of writing into one, I'm trying to connect all of them together. So yeah, it's probably one of the strangest piece I've ever written, but I hope you all will enjoy it. And be sure to give me some feedback on what you think.

She Feels Too Much For Things That Aren’t Even Alive

Emma Greere

She just wondered what inanimate objects felt sometimes. Always being used and never really getting anything in return. Take a refrigerator; they hold our things. Our food, keep everything cool and fresh and what does it get in return? It gets the payment of sitting there and collecting dust (unless we’re nice enough to clean it). They have to hold all this weight inside of them, it’s like a tortured soul. Someone who is forced to keep all of this inside of them and is only allowed to relieve their load when someone allows them too. It’s almost inhumane! That is, if if was a person. Which it isn’t. It’s just a thing. But how does it feel? How would she feel if she had to sit somewhere 24/7 collecting dust and only get yelled at if she breaks down? It isn’t the fridge’s fault, it’s just old.
A frown came across her face. She looked down at her mini fridge that was well hidden underneath her desk. Shiny new black coating with shiny new black handles. It didn’t hold that much, but she couldn’t help but feel for the poor little thing. It was so small and yet had to hold so much.
She sighed. Maybe she was going crazy; feeling bad for an object. Who every really thought that anyway? Only she did, I guess. She was a strange one. Feeling bad for an object as if it had a soul. More than ridiculous.

We All Try: An Original Poem

We all try day by day to be this illusion we call normal. But normal is not what we consider normal.
Normal is bizarre or strange or every crazy thing in this world .
We try so desperately to be perfect the we forget that we are normal. That we are imperfect.
Imperfect,
Unique,
Yet beautiful individuals.
We concentrate so much on being more creative, more beautiful, more perfect that we forget to do that thing that makes us happy. To do what we enjoy.
We concentrate so much on Fitting in we forget to be individual.
We have so much hate in all of us.
We forget to love and forgive.
We forget to love as we should and to forgive as we should.
We are so cynical and depressed we forget to be happy.
We try day by day to be happy,
To be sad,
To be creative,
To be this something that others dictate what we should be like.
We eventually lose ourselves.