Life
My Christmas Memories
Most of my Christmas memories weren't all that. In fact, I forgot most of them because for most people Christmas is that one time out of the year when they get to see their family members. For me, however, I'm glad I don't get to see mine.
By Emily Radford(Rising Phoenix)2 years ago in Writers
Please Do Not Put an Advertisement in a Comment on Any of My Stories
I know I am not a very popular writer. Never have been, and likely never will be. Most of my stories get very few views. Out of those very few precious reads only on the rarest of occasions does someone take the time to post a comment. Because I get so few comments I take them very seriously and read and (try to) respond to each and every one. At the very least I like to say thank you to the person who wrote the comment. The fact that they took time out of their busy schedule to read something I wrote is cause for thanks enough, but adding a comment takes that to a whole other level of dedication. You don't comment on something unless it really strikes you in some way. Unless it has some sort of emotional or intellectual impact. For something you read to have an impact on that deep a level requires that you actually engage with the thing you are reading. You have to pay attention to it, and think about it, and that requires real dedication and commitment. I very much appreciate that and therefore believe it is appropriate and necessary to say thank you to readers for taking something I wrote and published so seriously. This applies even if the story itself is the opposite of serious, as are many of the things I write and publish.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Writers
Solara's Stand. Content Warning.
In a vast, dense forest, there stood a solitary tree named Solara. Unlike the towering, densely packed trees surrounding her, Solara found herself alone, a single entity amidst the thriving woodland. Despite her solitary existence, Solara possessed an unyielding spirit and an unwritten tale that unfolded through the whispers of the wind and rustling leaves.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
Rising from Ashes: From candlelight dreams to city skyscrapers. Content Warning.
Once upon a time in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush green fields, there lived a young boy named Ravi. He came from a humble and impoverished family, where each day brought new challenges and struggles. Despite the hardships, Ravi possessed an unwavering determination to break free from the cycle of poverty and make something meaningful out of his life.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
Fields of Love
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled between rolling hills and lush green fields, lived a young boy named Aryan and a poor, yet spirited girl named Leela. Aryan came from a family of modest means, while Leela's family struggled to make ends meet, working hard in the fields to earn their livelihood.
By White Wolf2 years ago in Writers
All we need to know
Identity Who am I? What am I? How is my identity determined? Is it decided by what people see on the outside? By how I feel on the inside? I am a wife and a widow. A mother and a daughter. A friend, a partner, a lover. The list goes on (theoretically) indefinitely – scientist, scholar, teacher, caretaker… - are all those identities discrete? Of course not. They are all descriptions of ME.
By Jill Harper-Judd2 years ago in Writers
I am what I choose
I Am What I Choose (Identity) Jill Harper-Judd I’ve been turning this idea of identity over in my head for a few weeks now. Initially I thought “Oh, I have plenty I can say about that!” And I do. But at the same time, writing about those specific times in my life or reflecting on choices I’ve made feels a bit self-serving – very much a “look at me and how good I am” …and that isn’t in any way my goal. I don’t know that I’m all that good. I’m human. I’m imperfect. I’ve made plenty of mistakes…although I do try to learn from them. As we’ve all heard many times…good judgment comes from prior bad judgment.
By Jill Harper-Judd2 years ago in Writers
Grey Tree Frogs: Are They Poisonous to Humans?. Content Warning.
Grey tree frogs are tree frogs that have rough and warty skin. Though it's called a grey tree frog, its color is not grey. Their color can change from pale green to grey with spots of dark grey, but it depends on where they are.
By Shishir Ahmed Prima2 years ago in Writers
From Light To Darkness, "Mommy" to "Your Mother". Top Story - December 2023.
I Was Sirena The first thing I lost was my face. It faded into the steamed glass fog my vision was becoming as cataracts in my fourteen-year-old eyes sought to claim what little sight remained to me. I looked into a mirror every day and watched myself be erased.
By Sirena Carroll - The Blind Single Mom2 years ago in Writers
Rearranging Existence
“Relate to your greatness and not your weakness,” the quote from my Bedtime Tea gave me a sliver of hope to grasp onto, as I had been doing for quite some time. Each abstract affirmation of beauty to come my way via the tea tags carried not one identical sentiment as the time before. Doubts about my capabilities, projected onto me from the outside world’s view, had been sending me into a merry-go-round of despair. My tea tags gave me a gentle reminder every night to keep strong in the battle of coming to the end of myself.
By Kylie Martin2 years ago in Writers
