ollietrolley
I traveled to Ireland in the summer of 2012. It is a place where the terrain is rough and hilly, but overall beautiful. There are sheep everywhere. The owners spray paint the sheep to mark who belongs to who. It's quite interesting, riding around over bumpy hills and seeing sheep with red and blue marks.
The crane sat on the shore, contemplating which fish he should reach out and grab. In only a few quick seconds, he'd have a meal.
The captain and his crew veered west, trying to escape the wrath of the brewing storm.
He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and walked right through the door. Where he went, I don't know. But I miss him. The alcohol made him mean and rude, but I still loved him. Part of me wishes I ran after him that night, but part of me knew that I shouldn't have to deal with that. Maybe I deserve better.
The loud chatter of the children filled the room as the class filed in after recess.
The book of fairy tales laid on her bedside table. She put her head down on her pillow and her eyes quickly closed. She began to dream of the far away lands she thought were only real in fairy tales.
We drove off and ended up in a deserted town. We stayed at the motel down the street.
He tilted the hourglass and the sand began to pour. I tried to explain myself. But time soon ran out and I couldn't do anything else.
The three-year-old handed me the flowers and I smiled, as the look on her face was of pure content. I put the flowers in the vase, and placed it on the kitchen table for all to see.
I thought commit was yesterday's word. Didn't I already write about it? Ah, I'm not willing to commit to this word.
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