Scotland, a waterfall, surrounded by trees and branches, spilling through rocks and canyons.
Browsing: Prose
How does one communicate online if the required tools only cater to a one specific but not-applicable language?
My mother may be wife, mother, and nursing assistant, but she is also woman, spirit, fire, and queen. She is both the Cinderella who hems the dress and scrubs the floors, and the woman who dances till midnight, the belle of the ball in sparkles and silk.
MRAs everywhere: “Men are from Mars, women are from Venus. Or so I hear. I’ve never actually met one.”
So, is the formula for self-content denying that these ugly emotions exist in us? No, probably not.
One of my friends asked what was in my hand. “It’s green!” I think she said. I clenched my fist tighter. What kind of ‘normal’ cake is green? A light, almost fluorescent green at that.
Now, we have grown up to enjoy nothing at all. Did we realize that in the midst of all this, our hearts were growing dark as well?
One day out of the blue he didn’t come home from work. Behind my back, he asked his mother to come from New Zealand to break up with me.
It’s as if the house was incomplete without that tiny little piece of furniture.
I jumped out of bed: this was the day I would have double eyelids.