pjkaiser.com
Coffee and Cotton Candy (#FridayFlash) | PJ Kaiser
http://pjkaiser.com/flash-fiction/coffee-and-cotton-candy
Fiction, Observations and Inspiration. Rainy Rendezvous 1: Off Course. Rainy Rendezvous 2: The Whistle. Rainy Rendezvous 3: Second Chance. Rainy Rendezvous 4: “Destination Unknown”. Rainy Rendezvous 5: “An End to the Rain”. Coffee and Cotton Candy. Creative Genius Blog Award. 8220;Nothing But Flowers” Launch – Part 1 →. Coffee and Cotton Candy (#FridayFlash). February 4, 2011. You can listen to my audio recording of my story by pressing “play” below and/or read the full text below:. Sage Her presence on ...
theblockhouse.wordpress.com
Me | The Block House
https://theblockhouse.wordpress.com/about
Cinder blocks, cause they don't blow down. Idea #47 on how to fill out this page, because nothing seems right. It either seems too much or not enough. It seems egotistical or inauthentic. So for now, I’ll post a poem which I think speaks of ‘me’. Turn at Highway 258 truck stop, straight down. The gravel road to another Wal-Mart town. On that spot lived Queen Lula Mae, who wore. A crown of gray, lived in a 1957 Royal Mansion. Silver trailer, with a screened porch covered. Dirigible sightings, the Model-T.
theblockhouse.wordpress.com
The Block House
https://theblockhouse.wordpress.com/2010/02/15/292
Cinder blocks, cause they don't blow down. February 15, 2010. From → Posts. Larr; Previous Post. Next Post →. Leave one →. February 15, 2010 11:40 am. Lou I love this haiku and the pic relates perfectly:. Great use of sound as well as the visual. February 19, 2010 2:27 am. This makes me sigh. But geez that pier looks icy. Wouldn’t want to fall off that one. February 22, 2010 1:29 am. February 26, 2010 9:25 pm. Thanks everyone. I love this place. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here.
mazzz-in-leeds.com
mazzz-in-leeds.com » Blog Archive » Page 247
http://mazzz-in-leeds.com/2010/04/page-247
The writing prompt here is: page 247 of a biography, fictional or otherwise. This is an extract of the biography of JS Tycho, noted 25th Century physicist. 8212;—————————————————————————————————————————————————-. This entry was posted on Friday, April 2nd, 2010 at 12:57 PM and is filed under Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. Feed You can leave a response. From your own site. 26 Responses to “Page 247”. Says on April 2nd, 2010 at 1:06 PM. Heh, this was good. You&...
mazzz-in-leeds.com
mazzz-in-leeds.com » Blog Archive » Booty Call
http://mazzz-in-leeds.com/2010/08/booty-call
Now then, chaps. Well, if it ain’t the Lord of the Winds! Not seen you since you got together with that bird. Was beginning to think you were dead. Or, worse, under the thumb. Give him a break lads, he’s probably just been spending the last few weeks in bed. Business as usual, chaps! Matt brought his glass up for the customary salute, but the rest of us didn’t follow suit, instead looking at him in horror. What Is. That? It’s a glass, you pillock, he said, punctuating each syllable with a new fart. Can’t...
katdelrio.blogspot.com
Crooked Tales: September 2013
http://katdelrio.blogspot.com/2013_09_01_archive.html
Art, Writing, Opinion. Monday, September 16, 2013. I stifle a chuckle. I wonder. I wash the laundry. I cook the meals. I bring you a beer. I wrangle the children. I listen to the monotony of your choosing. What is it to be today? How hot Lindsay Lohan is? How long it took you to beat Final Fantasy? How I disappointed you today? How you expected better of me? Do I agree to watch you blissfully live your life while I decay in milliseconds? Ok Sure. Lets do that. The bride seems to realize that the preacher...
katdelrio.blogspot.com
Crooked Tales: July 2011
http://katdelrio.blogspot.com/2011_07_01_archive.html
Art, Writing, Opinion. Friday, July 22, 2011. A bird on fire streaks through desolate clouds that hang like sagging tits from a black-purple sky. Roll the joint between your fingers, man. Feel it? That’s some good shit now. Push the shaggy edges of limp brown hair behind my ears and take a hit. Puff, puff, pass. The flaming bird screams now—shrieks into the midnight moon. I rise to greet the Sirens’ call. The bird explodes into a million ashes in the shadow sky. Did you hear what I said, Son? He watched ...
katdelrio.blogspot.com
Crooked Tales: March 2011
http://katdelrio.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html
Art, Writing, Opinion. Wednesday, March 30, 2011. I liked the way his lips curled softly at the corners of his mouth. It made me thirsty for a drink from those lush lips. But I'd never tell him that. I slid the whip over the palm of my hand then gently slid it over his shoulder before slapping him sharply with it. He shivered and drew in steadying breath. I pulled him upright. "There, there Sweetheart. I would never hurt you. Would I? Friday, March 4, 2011. The Big Bad Wolf Likes Flowers. No Really he do...
kgough63.blogspot.com
PTSD is NOT My Fault: Hyperbole and a Half: Depression Part Two
http://kgough63.blogspot.com/2014/11/hyperbole-and-half-depression-part-two.html
PTSD is NOT My Fault. Things in my head that maybe should be asked to leave nicely. Monday, November 17, 2014. Hyperbole and a Half: Depression Part Two. Hyperbole and a Half: Depression Part Two. This is how it is for me. Thank you hyperbole and a half. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). My website in my persona of Artist. I just want to feel better. Hyperbole and a Half: Depression Part Two. Black Day in July. What Would a Floating Sheep Map? Heidi, our se. I thought I might re-open my blog. I neg...
kgough63.blogspot.com
PTSD is NOT My Fault: April 2014
http://kgough63.blogspot.com/2014_04_01_archive.html
PTSD is NOT My Fault. Things in my head that maybe should be asked to leave nicely. Sunday, April 27, 2014. Felt sick today with migraine so popped some 222's and slept in, Ken walked Strider. Some of my painted work. Is what keeps me alive. The worry he might (I don't know) feel must really wear at him. Truth sometimes I resent that , it's weird kind of catch-22 that I want so desperately to be loved and simultaneously resent those who profess to love me (I don't love, how can you? Glad my crisis has pa...
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