Writer. Penpusher. Keystroker. Prose is my shield, pen is my sword. Find me on Twitter: @boscomarino
She woke up with a start. It happened often lately. And just as often, she felt confused and alone. Fear crept under her night gown, rushed along her spine, bathed her in cold sweat.
Dear Opussers, happy World Book Day. May the words flow from your mind to your screens. :).
Who never cried to a song, never learned to love. (MB).
I could live on words alone for years. But at the end, without Love even words dry out..
I am aware of my reputation as a savage, merciless thug and killer. While I won't deny that I have killed, I can tell you it was neither savage nor merciless. My kills have always been swift and...
Wednesday, January 4, 2006 The morning snuck in like a thief enveloped in fog and stole something precious from my life. It took my pillar of wisdom and my lighthouse - it took my grandma.
My dear Opussians, Wishing you words filled with magic, flood of ideas and all around happiness in everything you create on paper, on screen or in life!.
I found her interview on a literature blog ( I'm sorry, but can't remember which one), and wanted to share this one answer.
You don't have to follow me, but if you do I'll walk backward for the rest of my days so I can look at your face..
#disabilityaware (This is a real life story to go with @sammielee46's Opuss project) In another life of long time ago I was a Physical Education student.
If the people you know well pass by you like you don't exist, it's not because you're invisible -- it's because THEY have no manners!.
Rick stared at me from the half-filled page, incredulous. "You're going to make me do that?" he asked. "Yep." "You can't..." "And why not?" "Cause I never killed anyone," Rick sighed. "I can't kill.
Is that my nose getting bigger, or my face getting smaller?.
The oil refinery was deserted.
First half of one's life one spends proving that he's not too young to take on responsibilities, and the rest proving that he's not too old for them..
Women are much better leaders than men, more prone to negotiations and discussions, as long as they are not trying to prove they're as tough as men..
She moves like a shadow, all but invisible. Her step is light, her eyes laser-sharp, her focus lethal. In the crowd she passes unnoticed.
If words are wind, I'm being blown away..
Candles are lit to burn in place of lives extinguished much too early. Keep them away from my weeping heart, least the tears snuff them out..
Warning: mildly sexual descriptions He looks hot tonight, thought Birgitte. She nuzzled his jaw and traced fine angles of his facial features with her nose. It felt great.