BLOG NUMBER TWENTY-TWO: THE HINT OF WINTER BECAME A PROMISE…
“This is the strangest life I’ve ever known”
WAITING FOR THE SUN – THE DOORS
Strange days indeed. So, I cling to these thoughts: that what we do to survive, to stay alive, is not what defines us. Instead, let it be the thing that makes your soul shine that shapes your sense of self. Paint, write, sing, dance, create or maybe just lose yourself in the art that others make.
Twenty-six letters rearranged then placed upon a page never ceases to amaze…
Never, ever ceases to amaze me…
BITCHES BREW by Steven Holding.
Jazz. Again! Jesus.
His choice of tunes exacerbated her anger. Their argument earlier had been all consuming, eating up yet another day.
Since then she’d been stewing, the names he’d yelled as potent as a slap in the face.
Mixing his drink, she slipped in the potion: a concoction of poison and gin.