Arnold was ready. At sixteen, this was the last time he would feel this shame. His father raised the switch. Arnold turned, snatched it from his hand, struck his father on the cheek. A thin line of blood showed. His father’s eyes opened wide, as did his mouth in a loud Oh!
Filed under Self compositions
Dream-protecting author
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins
Jacqui Murray's
the literary asylum
Random musings on life, society, and politics
I read. I write. I create.
I am a professional freelance writer and blogger with a passion to create original content. I develop web content and write for online and offline magazines. I'm a seasoned blogger with expertise in writing impressive blog posts, comments, and use of social media.
a creative writing notebook by Bill Bisgood
The Future Lies In The Past
Tales of whimsy, humour and courgettes
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
An insight to a heart mind and soul.
Founder of ReInventions -- Coach, Trainer, Writer and Personal Branding Consultant
Musings and memories, words and wisdom... of a working family woman
Stories of a magical world
