loudnonesense
I am not one with a lot of patience. I like things to be ready when I need them. I don't like to wait and I don't like to do things that are tedious and take a lot of work. You can say I'm lazy. I can be hardworking though. But I will never be patient.
It must have been hundreds of years old. The gold, you could tell, wasn't as shiny as it probably was when it was brand new. The watch that we dug up was rare, we decided.
I'd be lost without books. They inspire me, they're my haven, they work as escapism for me. I starve for books like one would starve for food in a deserted island. I swallow them whole.
I didn't want her to get involved with the wrong type of people. That sounds judgmental, but I know her. I know my old best friend. I know she would succumb to their unfriendly wrath sooner or later. She would break and she wouldn't even realize it.
It came as a punch to my stomach. All the air was sucked out of my lungs and I couldn't inhale. It was like a black cloud hovered in my esophagus.
I am completely drawing a blank for the word pouch. As a matter of fact, no, I'll write about it.
I dislike the word pouch.
I feel that it is vague and it sounds weird.
That is all.
The entire den filled with light. The withering daisies seemed to bloom like the first spring flowers. The sunlight seeped through every crack between the silk curtains. The letter shined and dance in my hands. Next week. He's coming home.