She lifts her skirt up to her knees,
walks through the garden rows with her bare feet, laughing.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
so...
i'm here. in London.
wait...
i'm in London. i'm in London. i'm in London.
nope. still can't believe it.
St. George pray for me.
wait...
i'm in London. i'm in London. i'm in London.
nope. still can't believe it.
St. George pray for me.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Story: Part 2
“Beth. I should have told you long ago… your life is in danger.”
"What?!”
“I said your life is in danger.”
Beth Crayne could not believe what she was hearing. Someone who she barely knew but from the beginning of her acquaintance with him had trusted completely was telling her something ridiculous. “Why would someone want to kill me?”
“May I look through your handbag?”
“Pardon?”
“Would you please let me look through your handbag?” The gentleman asked patiently. “Why?”
“I need to show you something.” Beth went upstairs with a puzzled expression on her pretty face. She came back with a little white handbag. Beth handed the gentleman the handbag with care. He dropped to his knees and dumped the contents of the handbag onto the floor. As Beth watched he spread out rouge, a five-dollar bill, a pair of spectacles and…
”Do you know what this is?”
“A pretty stone that struck my fancy.”
“Oh, it is much more than that. It is the only known white roseine.” The object that the gentleman was holding was a stone that just fit in the palm of his hand as it glinted in the light of the fire. It was as smooth as silk having been washed over and over by the sea. What was so extraordinary about it was that roseines were only known to be a magenta colour, very much like a ruby, but this one was a creamy white with pink and magenta swirls. "There are quite a few people who would kill for this 'pretty stone.'"
"What?!”
“I said your life is in danger.”
Beth Crayne could not believe what she was hearing. Someone who she barely knew but from the beginning of her acquaintance with him had trusted completely was telling her something ridiculous. “Why would someone want to kill me?”
“May I look through your handbag?”
“Pardon?”
“Would you please let me look through your handbag?” The gentleman asked patiently. “Why?”
“I need to show you something.” Beth went upstairs with a puzzled expression on her pretty face. She came back with a little white handbag. Beth handed the gentleman the handbag with care. He dropped to his knees and dumped the contents of the handbag onto the floor. As Beth watched he spread out rouge, a five-dollar bill, a pair of spectacles and…
”Do you know what this is?”
“A pretty stone that struck my fancy.”
“Oh, it is much more than that. It is the only known white roseine.” The object that the gentleman was holding was a stone that just fit in the palm of his hand as it glinted in the light of the fire. It was as smooth as silk having been washed over and over by the sea. What was so extraordinary about it was that roseines were only known to be a magenta colour, very much like a ruby, but this one was a creamy white with pink and magenta swirls. "There are quite a few people who would kill for this 'pretty stone.'"
A Grocery Store Clerk at the Checking Stand
She was short, about twenty years old with her dirty blond hair tied back in a drooping ponytail. One could easily see that her pimply face was not given to impulsive smiling. The slow monotonous beeping in the background aided her appearance of boredom as she earned her minimum wage. The required apron that she wore had a few stains from lunch, and was decorated with her nametag only. “Daisy” seemed in direct opposition to her countenance. Standing behind the counter checking out various people’s goods, she grunted ‘hellos’ and ‘come-agains’ as if she really wished they would leave her alone to watch her soap opera.
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