Feeling where his eyes, his cheekbones, and his jaw were. It gave her a quick mental picture.
Alice smiled. He was a handsome boy for sure.
Clyde asked her, “Would you like to see how my lips feel?”
Everything stopped as his lips pressed against hers.
Putting her unadorned baggy white dress on
Leaving so much to the imagination that it hurt to even try to fantasize anything about her
And piling her hair up under her uninspiring hat
It gave the world the perfect vanilla picture she craved them to know
Nobody would expect the wildness contained therein until it was too late
Accept with grace that sometimes you will fail
Cherish those moments, no matter how hard they are
Here is where you learn the most
It is akin to putting a puzzle together
Everything was once one picture before being forced to shatter
Vividly the picture can be reconstructed, but the outlines of what happen will always be there
Embrace that change and then reach for the next level
Oscillating around her, trapped in her emotional gravitational field
Rotating in and out of her sunny disposition
Bob felt like their relationship was becoming too predictable
It changed and became chaotic and way more complicated
The moment a third body entered the picture
Image: scx1.b-cdn.net/csz/news/800/2017/47-scientistsdi.jpg
Engraving the picture of her face on his soul
This way he could never forget her
Carter hoped that was the case
His Alzheimer’s was getting worse, and on his good days it scared him
Even on his bad days, he knew something was wrong
Dementia had carved so much out of his life
Image: leadbitterglass.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/etched_glass_person_13391.jpg
Silly little things always gave him fits
Telling time on an analog clock
Untying double knotted shoes
Making really thin crepes
People, on the other hand, he could read like books
Everybody was a simple picture book to him
Debbie on the other hand…
Image: fm.cnbc.com/applications/cnbc.com/resources/img/editorial/2015/06/26/102792549-confusion.530×298.jpg
Tim looked at the shards and fragments of his many broken story ideas. He poked through their remains. Each was as pretty as a stained glass window, but every time he tried to hang one on a sheet of paper they would come crashing to earth. Now they were just jagged pieces of color.
He almost just threw it all away when he had a thought. He began to nudge the pieces together and laying new prose as the glue. Soon a new, even more vibrant, picture began to emerge.
Tim wondered if that is why they called it craft.
Image: ilovemyburg.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/zn-stained-glass-pieces.jpg
Concrete concepts about ethereal energies
Allowed Marcus to start to subtle shades of unseeable colors
So he sent his will into the void to draw a picture of what he wanted
The art bloomed into reality. It was magical
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Little things matter, but you like to look at the big picture
Even if I told you I wanted the red one, you would get me the blue
The way you complete me leaves me shivering
That is you complete me like death completes life
I don’t know why I even opened the door to my heart to you in the first place
Now I want to evict you from my presence, but I keep giving you a stay from execution
Granting you another lease on my life
Got to learn from your mistakes and wash my hands of this mess
Out damned spot! Out I say!
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world
Never Short On Words 