She loved the ink man fiercely.
Win a signed copy of Journaling as Sacred Practice: An Act of Extreme Bravery! To enter, “like” this post and comment with a Six Word Story of your own. Best entry will win. Could it get any easier? Deadline 05.19.16. Winner to be announced 05.20.16.
Sin burned her hands to ash.
Fat clouds blushed against the sky.
We’ve been neglecting our reviews. Oh, we’ve written them, just haven’t shared, and that is just sad. So, the girls are returning to reviews with a retro read of Margaret Atwood. Here’s the tease:
To read The Edible Woman is to be transported back in time. Fourty-plus years ago “girls” had entered the workforce to stay. They wore binding girdles, deferred to the men in the company, and were expected to resign when they became engaged and left maindenhood behind. Still, they were there, earning their way.
To hell with pheromones, she thought.
Nakedly unstable, she confessed persistent sorrow.
She cracked up then cracked open.
Silent auctions gave her screaming fits.
The hike was postponed for rain.
persephone's step-sisters 