Rejection Is A Cancer, Edie. It Eats

I Simply Love Writing Good Stories, That's My Passion.

Nighttime Is Different. Things Are Otherwise When The World Is Black. Insecurities And Hurts, Anxieties And Fears Grow Teeth At Night. P493

I Write What I'd Like To Read And Just Hope That, Along The Way, Others Might Like To Read Them, Too.

And Then He Was Kissing Her, And She Was Struck By His Nearness, His Solidity, His Smell. It Was Of The Garden And The Earth And The Sun. When Cassandra Opened Her Eyes, She Realized She Was Crying. She Wasn't Sad, Though, These Were The Tears Of Being Found, Of Having Come Home After A Long Time Away.

There’s Something About Hospital Walls; Though Only Made Of Bricks And Plaster, When You’re Inside Them The Noise, The Reality Of The Teeming City Beyond, Disappears; It’s Just Outside The Door, But It Might As Well Be A Magical Land Far, Far Away.