This story brought to you with inspiration from Creative Copy Challenge #674 | Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge (wordpress.com) and the words Struggle, Adventure, Nature, Curiosity, Creativity, Freedom, Resourcefulness, Imagination, Outlet, Contentment.
To have an abortion or to give birth is, and should be, a choice – and terminating a pregnancy is rarely an easy one. But it should be the woman’s choice, and hers alone.
Time heals all wounds…and wounds all heels.
I’d say it was all worth it, to have the experience immortalized on two planets!
But on car trips, I have never been accused of being “observant.” So when my mom and dad roused me, that day in God-only-knows-where-Florida, asking, “What do you think of this place?” I assumed they meant as a vaguely potential place to live.
Half-asleep, only one thought came into my head – one clear-as-a-bell, fairly panicky thought, which I blurted out loudly…
Good dialogue is dialogue that is essential to the story or to the readers’ understanding of the character. It always serves a purpose – either it moves the story forward towards its conclusion, or it illustrates an important facet of the speaker’s character. Good dialogue is not idle chit-chat.
Sara stretched, arching backwards until she heard vertebrae pop, but careful not to tip her desk chair backwards far enough to fall on the stone floor. She stood, touched her toes and did several side-bends. She studied her laptop screen, contemplating her next move. She was no Chess Master, but playing Chess with her friend Andrej helped her to clear her mind and practice her strategic thinking. It relaxed her.
Everything changes, in time.
Rafe had made a mockery of diamonds.
Marty had to hand it to her: light-fingered Stella had stolen his heart. Now, he had to toe the line, even if it killed him. At this rate, he was pretty sure it would.
None of us live forever, but your time had begun running out. I knew this, intellectually. But it had never hit me just how finite our lifespans are. There, blanketed by the darkness, I held you and sobbed. When the salt dried against my cheeks, I prayed to God to let me die before you, though I had never felt more alive, or wanted so desperately to live a long life, in order to watch and marvel as yours unfolded.