If my words, weren’t my own if I tried to be someone who I was not would she look through me stripping away my covers undressing my less than savory thoughts about her? Pretending to be someone, whose words professed to belong to someone else, hidden away, tempting others to read along, thoughts and…… Continue reading Someone, Who I Was Not – Notthedane56
November is coming… With its grey weather and lowering temperatures. Inspiration sometimes takes a punch in the throat when fall hits. And I am very happy to know that the #NovemberNotes Challenge is back this year, held by Sarah Doughty, Rosema and Máh! Join in, and let yourself be inspired by these 30 songs throughout the…… Continue reading #November Notes – 2017
It isn’t quite 9 o’clock yet when I wake up, fresh as a rose. I can’t believe it, I outran my alarm clock! I’ll be damned! I think the last time I woke up before that devil’s invention did its job, was on Christmas back when I was a kid. I knew Santa had…… Continue reading M – Part Fifteen
Via Today’s Daily Prompt: Prefer Every cut, every invasion leaves its scar… He said. Wise words indeed, but what I what I prefer is the sweet sweet moment just when the pain subsides… For a short little while. Before….
I was working all day, and had my share of this and that throughout the long shift, so I’ll take a day off from storytelling today. I have not arrived in Aalborg yet, in my travel blog. But I was reminded of the city by my good friend, Notthedane56 when he shared this picture with me this…… Continue reading Street art in Aalborg…
Food for thought *Translation: ” 43% prefer bacon over sex…”
“Loving him was like playing chess with grandpa when I was a child, she thought. I could never outguess his next move, but he always made me feel like I had chances to win…”
I thought someone had dropped popcorn… If you want to know what After Eight Moments are about, click here.
Via Today’s Daily Prompt: Orange À chaque automne cette communion étrange entre la saison colorée, et la fillette aux cheveux orange.
I wrote you a thousand times, he told her by the stone hearth. The flames reflected in her eyes, matching her red mane. The warm tones of the fire colored the whole room, covering the discreet blushing of her cheeks. I don’t have the eye of a painter, I don’t have the hand of…… Continue reading Autumn’s avowals…
Cyranny's Cove 