Entries By Rebecca
Displaying 151 To 180 Of 702 Entries
Shelter in the storm. Doesn’t mean the storm stops. Just means that you can have a place to catch your breath, warm up, dry off, gather your wits about you, reformulate your plan, sleep, be nourished. Rest. And become brave enough to re-enter the storm for a time.Posted By Rebecca On 02.18.2012 @ 9:43 pm
She ran and ran, but wasn’t sure where she was going. Her hair flug behind her and her breath escaping in painful gasps. She didn’t dare look back for she wasn’t sure what she would see. She was afraid to see. She tripped, too afraid even to make a startled sound, but kept herself upright and continued to run. She needed a shelter and quickly.Posted By Rebecca On 02.18.2012 @ 6:36 pm
The indent of her collarbone was so perfect that I could just run my finger across it. I knew it would be smoothe to the touch, so impossibly smoothe. Everything about her collarbone suggested that the angels had created her, had formed her in the image of the Highest of Highs.Posted By Rebecca On 01.27.2012 @ 9:35 am
The hinges on the door were rusted. But that was how they had always been. Even since the Hayles had moved into the house, the hinges would scrape and rust would fleck off. It was a wonder how they became that way. Sure the house was very old – it was remodeled, but old still. The hinges had been the only things that had not been changed. For historical value, possibly. Or for aesthetic value.Posted By Rebecca On 01.24.2012 @ 7:23 pm
She built up walls and fences. At night, they kept away the fears and during the day, they warded off the world. Yet they could not keep out the one thing she wanted warded off the most – the butterflies. Those winged creatures would glide right over the top of the fence. Butterflies, as she had come to see them, were more horrid than her fears or the world. They were life.Posted By Rebecca On 01.23.2012 @ 9:49 am
The piece of paper was folded like that of an accordian. Each layer, she thought, was just one layer of life. There were many layers to this life that each of us were given to live. She was in the middle of these layers, compressed tightly between the folds and she wanted to get out.Posted By Rebecca On 01.15.2012 @ 11:02 pm
The bench was empty today. The old woman and man that usually sat there were absent. I wondered why they had missed their regular time. And then I realized just how much I had been relying on them to keep me alive. Their presence every day had given me some hope that I would live as long as them; live as long, with someone by my side.Posted By Rebecca On 01.14.2012 @ 8:49 pm
I like bacon almost burned. Crisp and crunchy. With orange juice. And then more bacon. I’m pretty sure I could eat a breakfast consisting entirely of crispy bacon and orange juice.
When cooking for my husband though, this can be problematic, as his bacon preference is chewy.
It’s fortunate for him I rarely end up with what I set out to make because most of the time when I try to make crispy bacon, it turns out chewy, much to his delight.
That, or burned. I need more practice. And more orange juice.Posted By Rebecca On 01.13.2012 @ 6:20 pm
She sings, letting her thoughts be free through the music. The ukelele she strums is rythmic, soothing. I want to listen to this music forever. I want it to conceal everything that that I am worrying about; I want it to make me forget about things that have been dragging me down. She closes her song with a last flurrish. All comes to an end.Posted By Rebecca On 01.12.2012 @ 1:06 pm
My friend Michelle was the first I knew, to do it, carry calla lillies down the aisle at her wedding. She was also the first I knew to incorporate another color (gold) as a main part of her wedding dress. A gold-ish champagne sash around her waist that, in some of the pictures, made you do a double take because at first glance it looked as though she was wearing a two piece wedding dress.Posted By Rebecca On 01.09.2012 @ 8:16 am