I'm Still Here: May It Be

"Charles" Larry called out in greeting as he walked in the front door. "What made you figure to start redecorating?" Pulling the key from the lock, he looked around. Besides the TV that was on in the entertainment area, the living room area had clearly been redecorated.

Setting his bags down, he heard the swinging door open and there was a brief stopping shuffle. "Larry I didn't hear you come in. How was your trip to New York? Charlie pointed towards the front door and wiped the condensation from his hands onto the napkin.

Daily Inspiration #17

I really want this bookshelf...

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I'm Still Here: A Little's Enough

And soon enough the sobs slowly but surely died over the running water. She exhaled, brought herself to a standing position and let the water run over her face one last time before her hand fell over the knob. The water that had blocked out her sobbing was left by the few drops that fell down from the shower head into the tub and went down the drain.

Scrunching her dripping hair she stepped out onto a towel that had been placed as a mat, and wrapped another towel around her body while grabbing a fresh towel to run through her hair. Immediately she felt exhausted as she sat down against the edge of the tub.

I'm Still Here: Lifeline

By the time Megan had returned back to the hotel, her mind was on the proposal that she had just accepted. Her fingers touched the edge of her lips where his lips had met hers, and she sat on the edge of the bed before pulling the pillow up against the wall and leaning against it for a moment before standing up again and walking over to her purse.

Hand reaching into her coat pocket she pulled out her father's number before wondering what she was doing. Unfortunately she was taken right to voicemail, but although she found her lips twitch in a smile she never thought that the sound of her father's voice could be so comforting, even if it was just a recording.

Daily Inspiration #16

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Writing to the Music

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Are you an author who has to have music playing as you write? A specific music list for the story that you’re typing out on the computer?

If you raised your hand, I’ve raised mine right along with you. I can only find myself writing in silence for so long before I have to have some distraction in the background—whether it be the TV, or music.

I'm Still Here: He Said, She Said

Pushing a hand through her hair, she trailed back to the entrance of the airport. Suddenly the early mornings and sleepless nights were catching up to her somehow. Not surprising that it was. Feeling quite partial to late nights at the office and taking a load of files home with her, that part felt absent as she had left it all behind when she had left LA.

When she had first started out she hadn't taken that many files home with her, but lately she had just been pushing it-knowing she was growing far worse in some ways than Don. Her thoughts before now had been tuned strategically to work, which caused more then one concern-far outgrowing the small voice in the back of her mind.

Her green eyes caught in the sunlight as she stood on the sidewalk waiting for a clearing. Walking across the crosswalk, keys in hand, she weaved betweeen parked cars until she had got to hers. With a sigh she gazed across the way toward the airport entrance before stepping in, the car slightly breezed with the shadowed parking lot.

UPDATE: Word Prompt "Pyromaniac"

"Thrilling Embers"


Originally written on Dec 10, 2011 @ 8:10 AM.


A:N/ Added a little a few paragraphs to this piece at the end, to make it feel more complete. 


Her body was silhouetted by the fire that raged angrily through yellow and orange flames—tugging through the air to sustain life. The girl sat near: perched on a log, staring hungrily into the flames.

Holding the pile of sticks in her hand, she acted like there was an interesting game playing out as her fingers uncurled from her outstretched hand. The sticks fell, one by one into the fire . . . leaving sparks that dissipate into the cooling air.

Daily Inspiration #15

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UPDATE: Word Prompt "Forget"

"All That Had Been Forgotten"

Originally posted on Tuesday; December 13th, 2011

It’s easy to mistake that she’s meeting someone there, as she sits on the bench alone. But as she raises her chin up--it reveals black mascara smeared beneath her eyes, and a streak down her cheek. The thin brown jacket and jeans that she’s wearing, does little to protect her from the rain and wind that’s whipping at her body.  

Her expression is one of torment, which holds the pain inside of the recent events in her life that she wishes to forget. Her shoes are deeply damaged—as if they’ve been worn year after year—having run in the fear that possesses her every day.  

Daily Inspiration #14

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Daily Inspiration #13

Hope you all had a fantastic and safe New Years celebration.

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