My Messages - Theme for Day 8
After fifty years she ran out of curses. Just like that. She opened her mouth… and silence. It was the first time since her childhood that she couldn’t taste ash.
My response:
She rushed upstairs to the mirror. A new face blinked at her. New, but still familiar. Same wrinkles and greying hair, but radiant. The ugly duckling was now a swan.
A rosy Sunday
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The rose Pretty Lady is covered in flower buds and starting to flower.
That’s all today except to mention that this is my 1900th Flighty’s plot
blog post. ...
11 hours ago
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