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She walked the beaches since she was a child. And all the years she walked she collected shells. Each trip was kept in a different antique apothecary jar, yet she remembered each walk.

To be strung out can mean many things,…. Hahaha. OMGoodness let me write a book on that one.

She didn’t want to, but he left her no choice in the end. She had to flee as if her life depended on it, for herself, but mainly for her two children. If she didn’t save them, who would.

A collage is a collection of pictures pasted together, all of the same subject matter, such as flowers, or butterflies.

She looked across the open fields and all she could see was barren space where crops should be growing. Instead she saw lifeless dirt. And as the winds came, it blew the dirt up in swirling storms of what should have been.

Should I delve into the darkness of my desires? Or should I stay in the light of safety where all is calm and peaceful and where I know my life will remain unchanged?

She had taken all she could take from him and then she had to spilled the contents of her purse on the floor and just looked at him. It was at that moment he realized she had had enough.

The old woman sat at her dining room table as she always did with her tea and her sugar wafer. It was her daily treat, something she cherished since she was twenty.

As she walked down the streets of Manhattan she remembered the good ole days, when the hotdog vender was on the corner and the kids were playing on the streets. What happened to the quieter times,… It was so busy now.

Her shoulder was bare with only a sheer covering of silk draping down one side. She sat at the waters edge looking out at the water as if waiting for a love that would never return.