Feelings are real. They often become one’s reality. But they are not always based on truth.
He threw his hands to his eyes and hissed. Like the hiss of incinerating ashes. ‘What is this bright, orange orb in the sky that mocks me with its warmth?
My heart is broken and I grieve, for I have known love. Your heart is broken and you grieve, for you have not.
How boys transitioned from bothersome pests to men who made her pulse skip a beat and her head swim in a flood of pleasurable sensations was beyond her. Perhaps this was the true definition of magic.
There is a difference between being able to love and believing your love is valuable, worth giving away.
Secrets are foolish creatures, I have learned. No longer do I wish to play with fools.
Love has little to do with romance and everything to do with honor.
He threw his hands to his eyes and hissed. Like the hiss of incinerating ashes. “What is this bright, orange orb in the sky that mocks me with its warmth?
Secrets upon secrets were weaving into a strange and mysterious fabric that would ultimately clothe his future.
Their leafy whispers delighted her, and she promised her confidentiality by gently touching the trunks of both trees. They had held her secrets close to their hearts, she could do no less.
The scenic route was a paved graveyard of dreams, but Fillion hoped his would rise from the ashes, marking the moment when he would finally own his life.
Leaf felt buried beneath the remains of their prior life, the ashes coating every part of who he thought he was in this community.