Each time I think of my Quads, I think of them in colors, each one vibrant, elegant, rich in color. Then they talk to me, each in their own trill voice, each one different from the other. Boy, are they different!! But alive nonetheless. Myra, Kokiri, Palmetto, Glyndoll, their mother M'rinn. I love writing this story, I think, quite selfishly, that this story is one of a kind! Of course, most authors feel the same way. But I did try very hard to make the characters totally different from one another. That's all for now. More coming later! Caio!
When the fog comes, nature takes a dark turn. Creatures with sharp talons and beaks lurk around every corner and blank space. Every noise has a dark and sinister sense. The very fog itself seems to hide all manner of dark menacing things, things not in nature, things meant to rip and tear flesh. Even thin see through fog evokes terror and fear. Fear of the unknown. The cold clings to skin like a blanket, drops of wetness sit on wooden tables taunting one to to pop the water bubble if you dare. The tightness of one's chest can be the fear of unknown things that wish to slither along one's spine.
In those days, life was simpler, worries were not as prevalent. In those days, society had morals, life lessons, grandma figures on every corner almost, we didn't have to question her motives. In those days, respect was learned and earned. Nothing was taken for granted, life was lived, people were loved, times were cherished. Today life is complicated, worries are rampant, society has lost its morals, we question everyone and everyone's motives. Respect is just an Aretha Franklin song from the 60's, life is in the express fast-lane, nothing is cherished anymore and love seems to be lost. Life, today.....
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