I have spend my life looking out for my Doctor and his companions.
It hasn’t always been easy, but I do my best.
But sometimes my best is not good enough and my Doctor loses someone he cares about. 9,372 more words
One decorated lemon-wood sole horizontally flush from heel to toe on the cobbled pavement, a precisely woven and tucked hem floats over the pointed black-snakeskin pickers’ lace, the twin sole vertically aligned and stuck to the brick indents of the wall behind him, the iron-creased trouser fold stretching from ankle to pocket, the left side torso of the jacket folded back behind the arm that is connected to the hand slid within and hovering in the silken lining of the empty pocket, a solitary ectoplasm of paisley-patterned handkerchief creeping from the pectoral pouch, a tucked facial-haired chin rests on the Windsor-knotted purple tie that’s embedded between the symmetrical white shirt collar folds, thin lips dry and motionless whilst dark shadows cover the rest of the face with the exception of a dark silhouetted nose camouflaged from the streetlight that his Burberry fedora is denying. 372 more words
“Goodie bags are a great birthday idea. I’ll have big bags for big kids and little bags for little kids. The big bags are gonna be great!” 767 more words
Woke up early after a really good nights sleep and almost no pain in my knee, Lynne and I where out of the house before 7am and went and turned out the horses, came home and went back to bed with a coffee before going to work, had a bit of a quieter day today but it went quick enough, came home cooked dinner transfared some of my wine into clean demijons, and then watched TV till Lynne finished work and then watched… 14 more words
Jack London’s writing style was mostly describing how the character feels and what it does and does not use a lot of dialogue. Robert Louis Stevenson a lot of his writing doing dialogue. 107 more words