I could see the shift starting and knew I only had another hour or so. Monsieur Jean pointed to the desk with the papers and Madame Francoise shifted on her chair, clutching her folder on her lap. He was unaware of the quarole descending on the lamp chain, so maybe that wasn't here or not here yet.
Two people writing, one picture generated by Stable Diffusion based on the the story title prompt. Twenty-four hours to write the story. No discussion between the writers. Let's see where this goes. Is creative writing something you can learn?
Visits to the tap rooms of Coast Mountain Brewing, Whistler Brewing Co and Howe Sound Brewing.
Forever will I thank the one who thought to serve beer as a 'flight'. The option to taste and enjoy without loosing the ability to assess is awesome for a light-weight like me, who loves options and hates to to be limited to a single choice. "Bring Them All!", I say, as I settle at the tasting table.
The stone beads in her inner pocket rolled smooth in her hand, warm being so close to her body. Her thumb traces the slight bump on Eskirous, the healing bead, to dab gently on a bruise or injury - but not an open wound! The oval shape of Laesha, the presage bead, slips between her fingers, pointing to the platform, clearly worried. Argos can feel the power radiate from her beads, wash over her skin as if wakutil slithered over her with its smooth naked skin, as they sometimes did when she was on her sleeping mat.
Howard, as usual, very much enjoyed this time of day. All the things that needed checking, had been duly checked. The mandatory exercises followed by somewhat less than optional health checks had been completed.
Gregory looked up from his books and moved his glasses to his forehead as Michael walked in and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Love, be honest, and admit that you will not meet the deadline! You might as well join me! I have a mulled wine simmering on the stove with some amazing brandy ready to be the bottom in your glass to be ... filled... by the wine" !
The siren song ebbs in and out, the undertow dislodging her thoughts. Adolphine runs her hand through her long red hair, attempting to rinse her mind. "This", she remembers, "this is the most dangerous part".
Her feet feel the soft sand underneath and she pauses, curling her toes in and out, the sand rushing through like an hour glass, passing the time. "I was here for a reason", she thinks, "what was that again...." The sand is so warm and so pleasant.
The doll looks down at you with a tiny shy smile, shrugging her shoulders tight.
"hello" she says and pauses, hesitantly, ready for flight with her elbows pressed into her sides, stumbly shoes shifting.
you follow her brief glance to the control on the cobble stone street.
In the past few months, fate put in front of me various learning moments about British Columbia history that - to my embarrassment - I had no awareness of. A visit to Sun Yat Sen garden.
If you are looking for the previous shows don't look further but look here !
