Denmark · poetry · Travel

Waking up in Odense…

  Waking up… Sure that my name has been called out. Impossible, We’re alone in our lair. Away from all Away from everybody, who knows My name.   Yet, I heard it clear… Must have been the winds, Must have been the twirling of the snow, The ghostly presence full of sorrow Of good ol’…… Continue reading Waking up in Odense…

Blogging · Fiction

Frisson…

  I’ll never forget the feeling of running my fingers through your hair.   Some people aim for endless nights of lust and sex… Some people want fame and recognition… Some want wealth, and all the luxuries it allows…   I just needed to rub a little bit of me on you. A silly connection.…… Continue reading Frisson…

Blogging · Denmark · Me myself and I · Montreal · Travel

Farvel Montréal…

  I can barely believe it. In a few hours, I’ll be kissing Montréal good bye for ten days. In a few hours more, I’ll be throwing myself into Denmark’s arms, again. I talk about it a lot, but I don’t think anybody realizes how intense my love for Vikingland is. I love Montréal too,…… Continue reading Farvel Montréal…

Blogging · Denmark · flags · funny · Travel

Postcards…

  I am getting everything ready, because (dang, yeah!!!!) tomorrow, I’m finally boarding a purple plane and getting shipped to Denmark! Yay! I wasn’t planin to post anything today, but… My little bro asked for my help, and that’s something I can’t refuse. His boyfriend’s 40th birthday is coming in March, and he wants to…… Continue reading Postcards…

Blogging · funny · Me myself and I · stories · Thoughts

The people have spoken…

  I like to give you Lovelies your share of power in the Cove! And some of you seemed disappointed with the lack of proper ending with my last story, And then. It was part of the point. But I don’t take comments lightly, and I decided that I might as well continue the story.…… Continue reading The people have spoken…

Blogging · short · stories

And then…

  She had been sitting in the room, blindfolded, for what seemed like an eternity… Her hands were tied to the wooden chair, and she still had goosebumps from the lingering feeling of his fingers on her wrists… The house was silent. She couldn’t tell where he was, or if he still was there to…… Continue reading And then…

Blogging · Fiction · stories

My glass house (part 1)

Originally posted on Cyranny's Cove:
One morning, I woke up and felt a weird urge to build something. I had no specific construction skills but it didn’t matter. My hands were just itching and there was nothing to be done about it. I found a spot in the woods, planted a sign in the…