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TrueConfessionsofaWerewolf Ch3There were many struggles as I learned about being a wolf, but to tell it all would take too much time. I feel it is more important to cover other major events in my lifetime, rather than cataloging time in learning about being a werewolf. I feel I have giving you a sufficient idea of my condition. I will freely admit that in the course of my writings, I may have become a bit nostalgic about it, but what is done is done.
Having grown up as I had I had grown accustomed to a lack of acceptance. It was something well ingrained into me by my father. I had come to expect it. Some my wonder about my fathers up bringing of me but he only wanted to be sure to prepare me for the future. He knew of the difficulties I would face. I think this was also the reason he made sure I was well educated.
When my Hogwarts acceptance letter came, I wasnt excited like most eleven year olds. I took m
TrueConfessionsofaWerewolf ch2From that day on life was different. Instead of going to work my father stayed home and set to work constructing a shed, my mum would get weepy eyed every time she looked at the shed. She always seemed sure to get me what I wanted and be sure that I was comfortable. By weeks end I was capable of walking but I dared not to venture outside on my own.
Every time I neared the door I would get images of the attack flashing in my head. Most nights then not, I would wake up screaming from a nightmare I had, the wolf haunted every one. I am certain that if my six-year-old self were faced with a boggart, it would have taken the form of that wolf.
Two weeks went by and my already restless nights were broken up even more. I had trouble sleeping not because of the nightmares though, just a general inability to sleep.
Hearing this would cause my mum to fret, bite her lip, and pull lightly at her shoulder length blonde hair. I couldnt understand why all this was about until it had been n
Welcome to ParenthoodWith a stretch, Harry woke up with a smile; he looked over at his beautiful wife, Ginny whom he had been married to for three years. Harry watched as the beautiful form of Ginny slumbered away, her chest slowly rising and falling. He watched as she instinctively in her sleep snuggled into his shoulder her amber locks spilling over her white pillow. Harry slowly bent his head down and brushed Ginnys forehead with his lips drinking in the sweet pampered smell that was so richly intoxicating, even now it caused his heart to race.
Morning, came Ginnys soft greeting in response to Harrys kiss, she didnt move an inch and her eyes remained closed as she seemed to drink in the moment as greatly as he did.
Happy Valentines Day, he whispered into her hair as he wrapped his arm around Ginny drawing her in closer to him.
Happy Valentines Day returned Ginny with a smile eyes still not opening. Sh
The Revels of a RoseA single rose, just one single rose, is a masterpiece in beauty, stem long and graceful reminiscent of the length and beauty of woman. This all leads up to a delicate blossom of the purest and richest red; so pure so innocent so beautiful that it puts all other colors to shame. They cower in fear to behold such beauty and glory. For something so noble to be placed on a flower places it at a beauty beyond compare. With a rose each petal is hand crafted and safely nestled into the blossom in perfect order, not one is its equal. Each petal is soft to the touch putting the glories of silk to shame if one could truly grasp a cloud it would be much as the softness and luxury of a rose petal. If a bed could be made of rose petals it would be a great luxury to be reveled in. Then the smell of a rose is a euphoria in and of itself, it cannot be matched or compared to any one thing and can only be described as bli
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More