JournalWord: That straight-jacket feeling.
::
"You are cooking?" she asks in disbelief. Tristan grins when Chris pulls the strap of her messenger bag over her head and drops it beside the doorway to the kitchen.
Jones picks up the orange book on the counter and waves the pages in the air. "Yup. We bought a cookbook."
Tristan twirls in his flour splattered apron. It's a sunny-yellow apron with smiley-faces decorated everywhere. Jones has his own apron; a cobalt blue apron with fluffy grey clouds. Chris notes that Jones has been spared...
Sunday, 28 April 2013
Thursday, 25 April 2013
O My Pity
It has now been deemed a moment in my life that requires dire repair.
I need a fellow Mother Mother fan.
I adore this band. It is the epitome of soul-scratching sound.
Oh man, I can't believe how much not being able to go to their concert is crushing me.
Gah! This is torture!
They'll be so close, yet so far :(
Well, I suppose I now have a life goal at hand:
To find an equally awesome person...
Sweet-Talked By The South
JournalWord: Something deliciously sinful.
::
The barn stands bright and vivid against the blue, cloudless sky, flaunting in it's fresh coat of vibrant red. It towers in comparison to the worn, pale, cream house meters away, and glints it's aluminum roof at the winding dirt road that curls over the hills to the little town in the distance underneath.
The brilliance and pride of the resurrected building has lost it's spotlight from the boys who had helped nail, saw, and paint the barn only a month ago with their neighbor's father,...
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Green Devils
JournalWord: Vegetable torture.
::
She plunks the plate down in front of him with a soft clatter of ceramic plate to wooden table. She smiles, all soft and sweet, and he radiates under the warmth until he gazes down at his plate. His immediate response is to shove it away, but the plate only moves an inch. He trails his eyes from the hand positioned like a wall in front of his plate, up the arm to greet the deceiving curled lips.
He narrows his eyes, peering at the slightly sinister edge of her lips and he fears that it has something...
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Not Forgotten!
Exams are here and I realize that writing right now is not something I should be doing. Distractions everywhere! But bear with me, I need to conquer one thing at a time, and right now its University.
But I haven't forgotten! I mean, I started the board for the plot to Bless so I am reminded where I'm headed and where I want to go!
Yeah, you got it: Bless is the real deal. I'm going for it as a story I'm going to finish...
Thursday, 4 April 2013
YGMM: The Baby Elephant
Warning: This has a lot of description.
JournalWord: Bubble-wrapping desks.
::
It’s another dreadful, winter afternoon at the downtown hospital. Flurries beat down over the cabin-fevered building, snuffing out light from windows in the mission to bury the hospital in white. The walk ways and paths winding around the hospital grounds, freshly scooped earlier in the day, are piling up again, disguising the stamped footprints and packed snow banks. Bare trees, hidden for months by hanging glass icicles, pack cold powder between frozen...
