With shaking hands she reached to take the stack of papers from Beaufort. And just as her fingers brushed them she stopped. “Wait. Please, tell me about her. Just a little before I have to look at this.” “Darling, your momma was like an angel. Wherever she went it was like she was walking on
Tag: where I party
It’s somewhere between 1 and 4 hours after dinner. I am sitting at the counter, writing. Minding my own business. And then it happens. Absolutely no warning (except for the fact that it happens every night). I’m starving, I know I haven’t eaten in days hours, I am so desperate! I need chocolate, or something.
Grabbing her clothes; she was determined to find answers today. As she slipped on her jeans she stuck her hands in the pockets and found the little Hello Kitty eraser she’d always kept as good luck. She rubbed the smooth edges; worn like velvet from absent-minded rubbing. This time it was not absent-minded. This time
CiCi woke up to the sun shining gently across the sheets. Breathing deeply, she felt peaceful; as she lay there the memory of the day before came back more gently than she had expected. She was comforted by the realization that as she assimilated this new information, she filled a void she hadn’t even known
So my friend Dana over at Kiss My List tagged me in the Old School Blogging Lists of Five. I am happily playing along, because it’s fun, and I don’t want to think of something serious and poignant to write. Funnily enough, I couldn’t think of 5 things I’d like to do before I
I’ve been writing a disjointed story/treatment for a novel/short story – in the form of responses to the perfect and fantabulous prompt – in the form of a song – hosted by my most crazy musical brother in arms Lance from My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. The only rule? Your post must be
She bolted from the drugstore. Leaning against the closed-door she took big gulps of air. Her eyes filled with tears; she looked up to see the sky streaked with gray. The kindness and warmth Beaufort had shown her was overwhelming. Her thoughts came fast and hard; This explained her emotionally distant parents. Lu was her mother.
So here I am on vacation thinking of making a vacation playlist, but feeling easily distracted. So I headed over to Stasha at Northwest Mommy to see what her Monday Listicles was going to be. Imagine my surprise when I saw that this week’s list is going to be: Talk about being at
It’s 1990, I am dating a musician (what’s new?), he’s a drummer (no offense to drummers but drummer’s egos, no thank you) he’s dropped the drum kit and is playing “percussion”. I know, don’t bother with the difference. If you’re a “musician” there’s a difference. Thankfully, he wasn’t doing much live stuff – mostly studio,
// <![CDATA[ document.write('’); // ]]>