I’m so bad at telling people things
when I need to say them
help me never left my mouth as often as i’m sorry did… 92 more words
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She didn’t look anything like he expected. When his father entered into negotiations for a marriage of alliance, Tobin was expecting a hag, or at least a woman that looked more like a man, but she was beautiful.
I was thinking of doing some stream of consciousness writing. A stream, a flowing stream not necessarily of water but of music, of lava, hot from the oven, hot from the heart, hot from the centre of the Earth, hot from the pot stirred most smoothly by the ladle of Time. 405 more words