I must admit to swiping a tear from my eye as I read this poignant piece. You have summed up the deep love between a mother and child. I cannot fathom the long separation you endured. Jeffrey is portrayed as an angel.
I like the idea of a fierce storm being a prowling, snarling, growling animal. Weather cannot be controlled or tamed. It does what it wants when and where it wants to appear. The final two lines aptly describe a downpour.
This is a lovely, poignant story. It is a study in rediscovering a loved one. Yes, grandmothers had lives before the grandchildren arrived. They were young once and learning as they waded through their own experiences. Everyone has what-ifs.
What can I write about what I just read? I am not sorry that I guffawed and giggled at your graphic distress. You intended for that to happen. Touche. 《 Please read that as if the appropriate French accent were present.) I admire your style and pacing. I admit to being entranced. I too have survived many a Canadian camping foray. Alas, creepy crawlies are the norm.
Well, I believe I'd have the same incredulous reaction as the husband. Wow, a baker's dozen of kittens is a big, new family. I enjoyed this recounting and the pace built to that birth climax. I noticed a word mix-up. " If I bought her inside" should be if I brought her inside. "
I suppose one way to deal with Parkinson's is to write about it and share your personal experiences. It cannot be pleasant to not only fall several times, but to expect the mishaps. Sigh, sometimes our medical interactions are frustrating.
This is well plotted and displays a nice pace. It meanders along with the young boy, Jesse, as he explores. I believe a child would name his environment as he perceives it. You have the beginning of a mystery here. Will Jesse further question the finding of a wee shoe in the river?
This is a powerful piece of poetry. Yes, unfortunately, relationships
can morph into ugliness. People change, or do they? They may be cold and controlling. One word confuses me. Did you intend to use procession? Do you mean obsession?
Well this was quite the enjoyable read. It contained some delightful surprises, too. The rekindling of a relationship is a beautiful thing. . To not die of a terminal illness would be the greatest gift of all. You packed so much into this story. I like the happy ending also.
This is the beginning of an intriguing story. It reads like the first chaper and introduces the reader to the main characters. I noticed issues with verb tenses throughout. A couple of times you write away and in English it should be used with the word from as in he runs from his home.
Well this is a sweet short story, a wonderful memory for Nina. She has not forgotten the welcome kindness of a grade school teacher. I could understand no child wishing to admit their hunger. It could feel shameful and/or embarrassing. One small act has lasting repercussions.
This is a lovely, poignant story that highlights what little we really know about a parent. After all, a father is more than someone's Dad. He existed before his child was born and continues after the offspring becomes an independent adult. A parent is human, not perfect. This story illustrates how people can drift apart.
This is a powerful poem bursting with imagery. It does seem contradictory and harmful for a moth to be attracted to what will destroy it. Yes, it is a dangerous attraction, a terrible enticement. A moth does seem to be " hypnotized by the fire". "She screams to her temptation." "She cries for her redemption." This poem resonates with the theme of addiction. Only the final stanza has a different rhyme scheme. Is that bad? No, I do no think so.
Yes, this certainly is a brief, succinct story. It is amazing what can be conveyed in this restraint. There is nothing, in my opinion, more annoying than a whining, hovering mosquito. Are they asking to be killed? Is there any other suitable reaction to this insect? I like the opening sentence, " Its buzz pierced my eardrum." This describes so much.
This reads as the beginning to a disturbing, frightening story. Now, I am hooked and left wondering what happens to Sam. Questions are swirling 'round in my head. This is a good thing. You have my attention. I noticed something that happens to me as I type, misplaced letters in a word. "The scarping sound" should be scraping sound. The ending is a shocker.
Great, imaginative use of the prompt words. With a minimum of words you have crafted a thoughtful story. That "brow furrowed" evokes so much. I chuckled at "right church wrong pew." I have never heard or read that saying before. Often the ideas for writing hit in moments described here. Wham, and there's inspiration.
Wow! This piece flowed beautifully, eloquently, effortlessly. This glides just as you describe Charlie Chaplin gliding. Not that I expected to find anything glaring, but I cannot find fault. I am entranced. You set the scene such that I can picture it in my mind's eye. How enchanting to experience a glimmer of Chaplin's magic. I especially liked the tribute to him as not needing to ever speak to convey joy. "And in that wave was everything: hello, goodbye, thank you."
My heart is bleeding for you, but sadly I do not have an answer for you. Why did those deaths occur? Why did they happen in December? Your sorrow is in every line of this poem. It is palpable and poignant. Obviously, these people meant so much to you. As for the structure of this poem, I like the unforced rhymes and the repetition of your questions.
I read this short story with a smile on my face. So, that's the secret. This makes sense. The North Pole Santa needs help from his brother in a different time zone. Believable. Plausible. Clever idea to use the two nights that exist as one date.
What do I think? I think this is a stream of consciousness style poem. As you run literally your thoughts are racing, roaming, streaming, surging. They are free to grab your attention. I believe this is normal for most people. We have concerns, doubts, issues, but we also find solutions. This was easy to read and comprehend. It flowed.
This is a clever way to portray loss without stating it is a fact outright. Katie still pours a cup of coffee for her husband and she speaks to him. Great use of the prompt by the way. You have portrayed a beautiful moment here. This could be many widows.
Wow! I am the eldest of four and we share the same parents. I cannot fathom being an only child for most of your life and then meeting your half sister. It seems like a plot from a novel. This mirrors the experiences of one of my neighbours. He discovered his half sister long after his parents had died. I am happy for you. Probably meeting as adults is better. You both have lived and experienced so much. I have discovered more family via genealogy research.
For most of us our school memories are ones we remember fondly. That is when we learned new skills and socialized with others. We had no worries other than fitting in amongst our peers. I must congratulate you on your English. I did notice however that you referred to your art teacher as wearing " a gold framed glass". While this is technically correct what he wore are known as eye glasses or spectacles. At first reading it's confusing because who wears glass? In English we say a pair of eyeglasses. I laughed at the idea of Tajik having a disease you called tajikitis.
I for one would love to receive cookies as a gift. I am a parent and can empathize with this father. Kids need to learn the value of money. The earning of it is a life lesson that never leaves us. It's not the cost but the thought that counts. Great use of the prompt.
Ah, yes, we all battle with our assumptions and sometimes there are consequences. This Aunt Fanny character has her strict beliefs and stern physical priorities. She is a powerhouse, a force of nature. The narrator survives her initiation. This was no easy peasy stroll punctuated by pleasant conversation. Thanks for the image of a senior warrior woman now ensconced in my brain.
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