I was walking in the meadow looking at all the colorless flowers. The sun shining down on the morning dew didn't make a bit of difference. Not even a sparkle. Just sad black and white. As always.

I have decided to stop working on it, mainly because I'm out of inspiration. I'll probably come up with something in the middle of the night, and if I do, I will DEFINITELY continue writing it, but

So here we go. For this article/whatever I'm not even trying to write for people. Well I am but more like I'm sharing with the world what my life has been for the past 14 months. Characters/People/Wha

Gemma Wishmonger had always loved old-fashioned San Francisco with its shivering, super swamps. It was a place where she felt fuzzy. She was a charming, cold-blooded, brandy drinker with short abs

Kate Chan had always loved magical Cardiff with its alert, anxious arches. It was a place where she felt cross. She was an incredible, giving, brandy drinker with curvaceous eyes and sloppy fingers.

Helen Vader had always loved cold Falmouth with its helpful, huge hills. It was a place where she felt sparkly. She was an arrogant, snooty, whiskey drinker with charming thighs and ruddy toes. Her

Catherine Sparrow had always loved idyllic Madrid with its open, old-fashioned oceans. It was a place where she felt angry. She was a smart, creepy, port drinker with ruddy arms and skinny eyelashes.

That was it. I canceled all of my plans for the day. I just could not handle all of the memories. Luckily, there is such a thing as driving. Driving seems to calm me. But there was something else I

That morning, was one of those mornings that I wish I could hit the snooze button and go back to bed for the rest of the day. But I couldn't. Sigh. I got up and headed toward the mirror to brush my

That night I stared at my ceiling, not being able to sleep. The next day I had so much to do. Go grocery shopping, visit my mother, work at the flower shop (which was what I dreaded more than

I was walking in the meadow looking at all the colorless flowers. The sun shining down on the morning dew didn't make a bit of difference. Not even a sparkle. Just sad black and white. As always.

So, right now you are reading this little reading, and you may be wondering, "What will this profile be about?" or "What will this reading be about?" or "Great, another one of these for me to