Today the man who sets the prompts in motion, wants me — us — to talk about the end of summer. The start of school, the end of long, warm, sunny days. 133 more words
I had been here before, a long time ago… and within those woods we had played, and drank water from a spring. In those fields my Great Grandfather had plowed, and worked the land, and I imagine as well my Grandmother and her brother and sisters must have played in those same woods that formed the backdrop for the stage. 223 more words
This fiction is a response to Daily Post’s weekly writing challenge.
Loneliness is an interesting feeling. It’s like drug. Well, I know it would be quite inappropriate to compare loneliness to drug, but just think about it, drug and loneliness are surprisingly alike in the way they affect us: we have heard bad things about it (movies and music helps a lot in raising awareness!), we try to stay away from it by blending ourselves into crowds and trying to fit in, then boom, in the very moment of weakness, it attacks us. 1,044 more words
This gallery contains 3 photos. This string–which is being used to give a bit of posture to some bell pepper plants that were flopping over–is looking a little worse for wear, but it’s still one of this male Anna’s Hummingbird’s favourite perches. 126 more words