When the light is gone And the day is done There is nothing better Then some damn good sleep
Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile a kind word, a...– Leo Buscaglia (via lilysofthefield)
Wish I wrote more
When I get home from work, it’s late and I’m too tired. When I wake up, I’m too tired. I’ve been running errands during lunch this week, so I haven’t had time then. I’m loving the energy in the community and hope to be posting more soon.
Lilys of the Field: This is the crisp autumn air... →
lilysofthefield: This is the crisp autumn air I’ve longed for all year. The sun’s resting behind the clouds and fall’s sweet air kissing our cheeks. It’s the perfect weather for rolled up jeans and ballet shoes, for long sweater sleeves and shoulder bags. It’s perfect weather for a walk down downtown and hot apple…
Defenestrations: Brainstormy thoughts as I'm... →
jayarrarr: I may launch a new blog. Spinoff from craftykarategirl’s earlier question. Said blog would post a writing challenge once a week, and reblog every response to that challenge. Like my purple challenge, to some extent, but without running the risk of cock-blocking my own work on my own blog. ;) If I’m going to launch it, I need to know off the bat that quite a few of you would be...
Caritas Christi: Creative Fiction (Set 2) →
exfavilla: It was in the trenches that I found out what love truly was. I had received the call from my commanding officer that it was time for our last push, but I knew what he meant. We were all going to die. The Vietnamese had the high ground and the possibility of scathing a hill from a dug in position…
Caritas Christi: Creative Fiction (Set 1) →
exfavilla: The door of a dilapidated house slams open eerily from a vagabond wind, laced with chills and ice floes. The warmth of James’ jacket barely keeps the bursts of winter out as the nape of his neck is attacked by frigid spells called snow. He has been crawling for what seems like miles finally…
Sit, wait, and wonder
Anxiety embodies my heart while lungs draw air fruitlessly As if I’m drowning in my own confliction Thoughts of routes, plotting their course Should my question find apathy or a blushing heart? Like endless torment, my mind seeks the words to resonate your heart But perhaps only to discover that someone has done the same before me Only hope would exist if I were to embark on a fantastical...
The silence The cold creeps, crushing the noise as people retreat to warmth As if the world drowns to the weather of a dead season Many nights were spent standing in wait for an epiphany of sorts Maybe the realization that one can be without love, without pain Or the hope that the night would bring a numbing glow of realization Something profoundly larger than myself and those who occupy the...