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Walking through the crowded streets, Benches taken, no free seats. Sun beats down on all our heads, Rising from our unmade beds. Cramped yet dainty, life here seems, Architecture rises from my dreams.
Hello all, this is my second short story in my quest to write one small story each month for a year.
We flew to a great place called Italy, We sailed all the way through the big blue sea.
Sam was still waiting for an answer, I decided, "yes!" I said smiling Sam hugged me tightly, we were going to have a baby. Later that day the nurse said that I could leave to go home.
Trees of olives, pomegranate and lemon line the streets. No clouds in the sky. The cicadas constant beat. Market selling wares of linen, vegetables and fruit. The noise of local barter.
4 Beets - medium size 1 tablespoon virgin olive oil 1/2 tablespoon of white wine vinegar 20 mint leaves (fresh) Take 4 medium sized beets and cook in boiling water until tender (not soft ) let them...
The painted houses clinging to the hillside glare orange with the late-afternoon sun. It is almost impossible to look across the harbour without shielding your eyes.