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Young Writers Society


Pickle810

About Pickle810

I'm thirteen, I live in the middle of nowhere, and I've got three dogs, not to mention about a thousand cannibalistic snails. I feed them cabbage.


Interests

Music, reading, community service, and disturbing the universe

Occupation

not failing math (I'm about to get fired)


The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.
— Kate Chopin, The Awakening