Cait
Once upon a time - a long time ago - there was a cow. Now this cow turned into a piano. That piano is sitting in my office.
This single word makes children ache with fear. IT sends chills down the backs of this who wonder. And why? It does not exist! The penalty of sin is death! Not eternal torture. And God died that death. Does no one see this? Does no one see that He loves you?
This it is. The end. What happened? I trusted. We all did. They gave us hope and they let us down. What are we supposed to do now? OUr infinite supply of Tim Horton's donuts gone...
Th paint stool was beckoning me. I could feel it through the wood door. I rubbed my fingers together. They were itching for the feel of a paint brush against a smooth canvas. But should I? Even after...after...
The bloomers billowed bonnily beneath the bodice of the bashful blooming body named Boli.
The little girl stared intensely at the bud trying to force it into showing her its freshly formed face. Turning to her mother - as she does everyday upon finding the bud still closed - she whines: "Mooomm, it not oping!"
Bloomed is a word of Spring. Gentle and cool. Light pink with soft touches of pale yellow. Yellowish green leaves pushing out of the soft branches.
Plaster reminds me of glue which reminds me of thise string balls I made which reminds me of balloons because you need those to make the string balls which reminds me of shivers because I shiver when balloons pop...
That single dot in the worst place on the lens...
Stripped from its place the torn paper flutters in the stormy winds taking on a new entity being freed from its stapled life on the billboard.
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