Jacob mills lives to wear his new earrings. He got them from his grandma. They are shaped as pinecones which is his favorite snack. He loves how they are high in fiber and low in calories.
it’s been two years since i left my favourite earrings on the dashboard of my first boyfriend’s car. he broke up with me and i cried and walked away. walked for hours and hours until i heard the sobs of to a lonely, dying tree.
it was a sad day for me.
Her earrings were massive. A pair of hoops like parrot perches. She probably could have put her arms through them as she gesticulated, that’s how big they were.
The pearls never stayed in place, no matter how much I tried to stay still in order to keep up the illusion of sophistication. It was evident I wasn’t part of this world by the way my necklace seemed to want to escape from me, forming a tangled mess on my chest.
ik heb een oorbel in de vorm van een spiraal. dat is mooi, maar wel onhandi met vriendjes. daar blijf je achter haken, namelijk. wel kun je dan zeggen d at je er een aan de haak hebt geslagen, dat wel. ik heb er een aan de haak geslagen.
maaike
I lost my gold earring because i was irresponsible. Now I have another one and it has my favorite color of gem! My ears are really sensitive so all my earrings are supposed to be real or at least same for skin allergies.
Victoria Maliunag
Earrings, strangely, in my culture are considered an ornament only fitting to people of a female persuasion. In fact, most girls are forced by their parents to get their ears pierced at a very young age – which is a ridiculous notion if you ask me. I’ve always liked to keep my body unmarred, and by some miracles I’ve been able to convinced my mum for me to stay that way, but still.
Small, gold, it fitted perfectly on the lobe of her olive skinned ear. A curl of black hair behind the ear completed the picture. He wanted to kiss the earlobe, tuck the curl more neatly behind the ear, but instead he said, “Listen ma’am, if you’re not going to buy ’em, take em out it’s unhygienic”
Rosie Fiore
stupid people get those big earrings that take up Thar whole ear
The golden earring hung like the sun on the horizon. It dangled from the lovely ladies ear and graced her faced with it’s presence. Such a rustic elegance.
Mary Ellen
i found it. i knew it. it wasn’t mine. i could feel it. i never wanted to be the other one. i don’t even know her and i know she couldn’t handle this. i couldn’t handle this. this is why we don’t deserve this. the power of when you think you’re too attractive. how can you not find love in one? or one to love?
Between all those white sheets, her golden earring was nothing else than a sign of malice, an oath of disbelief. She had all the time in the world – and all she did was sleep.
‘Those are nice,’ she said, pointing at a pair of silver earrings with green stones dangling from them. Her father ruffled her hair and presented his credit card to the clerk. ‘On the card, please.’
Krospgnasker
earrings are bad if they are not made out of stainless steel. at least that’s what my sister told me.
That’s when he saw it. It was the earring he had been told about. The one that had been stolen from the museum the previous day. Was this the home of the thief?
I got my ears pierced when I was nine. It hurt a little. But now I have some really pretty red earrings.
Anna Kapsner
I am forever losing earrings, just one of course so I have a collection of misfits.
Perhaps I should start wearing different ones, start a trend be cool and kooky.
Why do I always lose the expensive ones and hold onto the cheap ones?
Robin
She noted the earring in the sink. She asked her husband about it. Happy Birthday, he says, and kisses her on the cheek. Where’s the other? She asks, and notes the box in her hands. It’s her birthday again, her husband isn’t there. They were just in their apartment. She has a house now, purchased with the money she made in the divorce. In the couch she finds the same earring. Her new husband is having an affair with the same woman. Who is this woman? She will find her. She calls her husband to the room. It’s her birthday. She’s in her car now, a one-year-old cherry red convertible. She bought after the second divorce. Her second husband was a senator who didn’t want a scandal. What do you want? He begged? Tell me what you want. So she bought the car, and now she drives. She’s earned a reputation. People call her different variants of poisonous things. Black Widow. Queen Cobra. A toxic woman. This has an opposite effect. Men find her irresistible. She makes love to them in her car, each time finds the single earring. She lives in Las Vegas and takes these men through the drive-through chapel and after they lay there, tired, the earring falls from their pocket. Each time she divorces each man she buys a new car and soon has a fleet of red convertibles that drive across the desert looking for new men with the same mistress, this vapor with a single earring. After so many husbands she names each car after each man. A convertible named Hank, Greg, Henry, Tom. When she marries every man in America she makes her way to more exotic men and buys exotic red convertibles and names them Pierre, Jean-Paul, and Aziz. After she marries every man she marries every woman and as women are perceptive they are the only ones who notice she is only wearing one earring and so they ask, where is your other earring? As it falls out of the pocket of every man in the world and as she drives each of her convertibles off a cliff in the desert like Thelma and Louise she chants to herself, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.
The girl with a pearl earring, the girl who’s existence remained confined within the walls of a silvery, slimy oyster. But her ears had the soft curves of a conch shells, and her eyes were as deep and wide as periwinkle seas, and the world hung off her her half parted lips, waiting to be dropped, to be discovered, or perhaps destroyed. The girl with the pearl earring, waited. Her lips parted but painted to be still, lingering on her only half-formed word.
I remember the day when this happened. I remember getting my cartilage pierced. It didn’t hurt the way I thought it might, but he was there, then, holding my hand, and he looked at me with dark eyes, the same color as you might think of the devil’s soul. If the devil has a soul, that is. He smiled at me, and told me it’d be all right. He lied. I was sore up there for the next week. But it’s a little something to remember by.
an earring dangles precariously from her ear
her hair is drawn back from her face
a hurried style for a woman too rushed to fuss
she slips through the doors just as the bauble falls
lost forever
Ah, the dingle, dangling jingle of those little silver cups like tiny fish against the sweet, soft curling ear. Ringlets fell, intertwined themselves and she tilted her head. “Oh, these” she said, “they’re antiques from an offshoot of the Silk Road when it passed through what was then Hindustan. A caravan brought it westward two centuries ago and my grandmother gave them to me today.
Someone walked inside the store. She was wearing an earring. She came over to me and said “Meep?”. I understood the question.
“The earrings are in isle five, miss.” She left.
Dino Dragonrider
Raks what to think about ornaments and other things while you are failed to make the trip for me. I am really suppressed on this matter. I want to come there dear.
laxmi
i love esrrikngs
tthere are blue earrings in my closet
earrings are must have in a women’s wardrobe
my mom has these vintage earrings from gucci
nida khan
wher on my ear,get a ears pears,a earring is a thining you wear on your ear,
natalie
The earring dangles like a golden grape, unripe and hard…..
He looked at the earring on the ground. It belonged to Madeline. What was Madeline doing here? The more I looked into this investigation, the more questions there were.
The first thing I noticed about him was his ears. Well not his ears specifically, but his earrings. He had 5 lining up and down each ear.
I couldn’t help but stare.
Jacob mills lives to wear his new earrings. He got them from his grandma. They are shaped as pinecones which is his favorite snack. He loves how they are high in fiber and low in calories.
earrings go in ears. thats all to it.:P
Ray loves to wear earrings on his wedding days.
jake loves to wear earrings while he dresses up for his catwalk
EARRINGSSSS!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? That kid has one earring not two. :P
I like earring money.
it’s been two years since i left my favourite earrings on the dashboard of my first boyfriend’s car. he broke up with me and i cried and walked away. walked for hours and hours until i heard the sobs of to a lonely, dying tree.
it was a sad day for me.
Her earrings were massive. A pair of hoops like parrot perches. She probably could have put her arms through them as she gesticulated, that’s how big they were.
The pearls never stayed in place, no matter how much I tried to stay still in order to keep up the illusion of sophistication. It was evident I wasn’t part of this world by the way my necklace seemed to want to escape from me, forming a tangled mess on my chest.
ik heb een oorbel in de vorm van een spiraal. dat is mooi, maar wel onhandi met vriendjes. daar blijf je achter haken, namelijk. wel kun je dan zeggen d at je er een aan de haak hebt geslagen, dat wel. ik heb er een aan de haak geslagen.
I lost my gold earring because i was irresponsible. Now I have another one and it has my favorite color of gem! My ears are really sensitive so all my earrings are supposed to be real or at least same for skin allergies.
Earrings, strangely, in my culture are considered an ornament only fitting to people of a female persuasion. In fact, most girls are forced by their parents to get their ears pierced at a very young age – which is a ridiculous notion if you ask me. I’ve always liked to keep my body unmarred, and by some miracles I’ve been able to convinced my mum for me to stay that way, but still.
take off the earrings
wipe off the make up
let my hair down
what is left?
the face i see scares me.
i feel like such a dude if i take out even one earring pair.
i need the bling, and the make up to make me feel like a woman.
i am a troll.
Small, gold, it fitted perfectly on the lobe of her olive skinned ear. A curl of black hair behind the ear completed the picture. He wanted to kiss the earlobe, tuck the curl more neatly behind the ear, but instead he said, “Listen ma’am, if you’re not going to buy ’em, take em out it’s unhygienic”
stupid people get those big earrings that take up Thar whole ear
The golden earring hung like the sun on the horizon. It dangled from the lovely ladies ear and graced her faced with it’s presence. Such a rustic elegance.
i found it. i knew it. it wasn’t mine. i could feel it. i never wanted to be the other one. i don’t even know her and i know she couldn’t handle this. i couldn’t handle this. this is why we don’t deserve this. the power of when you think you’re too attractive. how can you not find love in one? or one to love?
Between all those white sheets, her golden earring was nothing else than a sign of malice, an oath of disbelief. She had all the time in the world – and all she did was sleep.
‘Those are nice,’ she said, pointing at a pair of silver earrings with green stones dangling from them. Her father ruffled her hair and presented his credit card to the clerk. ‘On the card, please.’
earrings are bad if they are not made out of stainless steel. at least that’s what my sister told me.
That’s when he saw it. It was the earring he had been told about. The one that had been stolen from the museum the previous day. Was this the home of the thief?
There is an earring in my left ear. I take it out and the lobe starts top swell with pain. I’m not going to say it hurts, but it bothers me too much.
I got my ears pierced when I was nine. It hurt a little. But now I have some really pretty red earrings.
I am forever losing earrings, just one of course so I have a collection of misfits.
Perhaps I should start wearing different ones, start a trend be cool and kooky.
Why do I always lose the expensive ones and hold onto the cheap ones?
She noted the earring in the sink. She asked her husband about it. Happy Birthday, he says, and kisses her on the cheek. Where’s the other? She asks, and notes the box in her hands. It’s her birthday again, her husband isn’t there. They were just in their apartment. She has a house now, purchased with the money she made in the divorce. In the couch she finds the same earring. Her new husband is having an affair with the same woman. Who is this woman? She will find her. She calls her husband to the room. It’s her birthday. She’s in her car now, a one-year-old cherry red convertible. She bought after the second divorce. Her second husband was a senator who didn’t want a scandal. What do you want? He begged? Tell me what you want. So she bought the car, and now she drives. She’s earned a reputation. People call her different variants of poisonous things. Black Widow. Queen Cobra. A toxic woman. This has an opposite effect. Men find her irresistible. She makes love to them in her car, each time finds the single earring. She lives in Las Vegas and takes these men through the drive-through chapel and after they lay there, tired, the earring falls from their pocket. Each time she divorces each man she buys a new car and soon has a fleet of red convertibles that drive across the desert looking for new men with the same mistress, this vapor with a single earring. After so many husbands she names each car after each man. A convertible named Hank, Greg, Henry, Tom. When she marries every man in America she makes her way to more exotic men and buys exotic red convertibles and names them Pierre, Jean-Paul, and Aziz. After she marries every man she marries every woman and as women are perceptive they are the only ones who notice she is only wearing one earring and so they ask, where is your other earring? As it falls out of the pocket of every man in the world and as she drives each of her convertibles off a cliff in the desert like Thelma and Louise she chants to herself, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.
The girl with a pearl earring, the girl who’s existence remained confined within the walls of a silvery, slimy oyster. But her ears had the soft curves of a conch shells, and her eyes were as deep and wide as periwinkle seas, and the world hung off her her half parted lips, waiting to be dropped, to be discovered, or perhaps destroyed. The girl with the pearl earring, waited. Her lips parted but painted to be still, lingering on her only half-formed word.
I remember the day when this happened. I remember getting my cartilage pierced. It didn’t hurt the way I thought it might, but he was there, then, holding my hand, and he looked at me with dark eyes, the same color as you might think of the devil’s soul. If the devil has a soul, that is. He smiled at me, and told me it’d be all right. He lied. I was sore up there for the next week. But it’s a little something to remember by.
an earring dangles precariously from her ear
her hair is drawn back from her face
a hurried style for a woman too rushed to fuss
she slips through the doors just as the bauble falls
lost forever
Her hand shot up to her left ear lobe, and sure enough, her earring was missing.
“Damnation, now where did it go?” she muttered, as she fell to her knees, eyes scanning the floor for a glint of diamond.
Ah, the dingle, dangling jingle of those little silver cups like tiny fish against the sweet, soft curling ear. Ringlets fell, intertwined themselves and she tilted her head. “Oh, these” she said, “they’re antiques from an offshoot of the Silk Road when it passed through what was then Hindustan. A caravan brought it westward two centuries ago and my grandmother gave them to me today.
Someone walked inside the store. She was wearing an earring. She came over to me and said “Meep?”. I understood the question.
“The earrings are in isle five, miss.” She left.
Raks what to think about ornaments and other things while you are failed to make the trip for me. I am really suppressed on this matter. I want to come there dear.
i love esrrikngs
tthere are blue earrings in my closet
earrings are must have in a women’s wardrobe
my mom has these vintage earrings from gucci
wher on my ear,get a ears pears,a earring is a thining you wear on your ear,
The earring dangles like a golden grape, unripe and hard…..
He looked at the earring on the ground. It belonged to Madeline. What was Madeline doing here? The more I looked into this investigation, the more questions there were.
lexis grace adriana
The first thing I noticed about him was his ears. Well not his ears specifically, but his earrings. He had 5 lining up and down each ear.
I couldn’t help but stare.
Dangling from his ear, it catches the light and shines in little spots.
I can’t stop looking at it.