Working on getting these to Publishable Standard.

Taking down for now.

Thanks to all my readers. News should be coming soon, although we know how life goes.

1.

Once upon a time in a small town, there lived a 10-year-old boy named Tommy. He was an adventurous, energetic boy who loved climbing trees and playing soccer with his friends. One sunny afternoon, his aunt, Sarah, announced that she was getting married. Everyone in the family was excited, especially Tommy, who loved weddings for the cake and the delicious food.

Chapter 13

When we arrived at Gatwick, there was a sign with an arrow that just had ‘Turbulence’ on it. It led us to a reserved floor in the North Terminal car park, where attendants were there to show us to a parking area and open the doors for us. Our driver would be back at seven, to wait for our return. Jeff and I certainly looked like we should be there as we followed more signs that took us into the main concourse, through a very quick passport check, finally arriving in a VIP lounge where some had already started mingling.

Umberto didn’t respond to my note. I guess I wasn’t too surprised. Elissa never interacted with the notes I left in Tommy’s game; it was Tommy doing so, though he thought my responses were coming from Elissa at first.

A Successful Family

The possession of a small number of cows, pigs, sheep and goats in addition to ducks, hens and geese was to the older family members the currency by which they measured true wealth. That the hundreds of doves that lived in the centuries old dovecote and the fish in the lake were a readily available food source was a wonder to them. When they added a couple of hives of bees and a dozen rabbits to keep in a barn they couldn’t imagine a better life.

Defense was a bore. Quirrell gave us a practice test which I finished in just a few minutes. I was contemplating pulling out another book, but I didn't want to get too involved in anything else and have to be interrupted. My nails were still impeccable, and I was enjoying the sparkly black color. I glanced around the room and everyone was still working on their test, except Hermione. She was staring off into the distance, mumbling silently. I'm not sure when I developed the skill, but I've come to the realization that if I focus I can read lips with a high degree of accuracy.

"Hitchhiking? No. Me, hitchhiking? Where? Like, out here, in the desert?"

"Yeah, maybe a dozen miles west of here."

I tried to put it together, but the pieces didn't fit. "Hitchhiking... dressed like this?
Barefoot? With an umbrella? What-- did I drop out of the sky?
Like Mary Poppins, with the umbrella?"

Cherry blossom journey to womanhood

the rouge tasted like cherries, a forbidden sweetness on alan's four-
year-old tongue. His mother's vanity table, a glittering land of
forgotten treasures, had captivated him. He'd slipped on her silky robe,
the feel a stark contrast to his usual rough-and-tumble clothes. The
lipstick, a bright, unapologetic red, felt foreign on his lips, yet
oddly comforting. His mother's gasp shattered the moment. Tears streamed
down his face, not from her anger, but from a dawning realization - he
was different.

“I’m done!” I said to my wife when I arrived home from work.