tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67491995387588263522024-03-19T23:45:38.191+11:00Missy’s Short StoriesOne day I was told you should write a book but never seem too get that far.
These are my shortsMissy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-24948730920171283222011-10-19T23:18:00.000+11:002011-10-19T23:19:56.880+11:00Jimmy and the Lady<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 21px;"><b><br /></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hey human what you got for me today Jimmy said in his best cat manners, sometime the older human woman didn’t really understand meezer after all she was very old and Jimmy didn’t care if they just sat for a while her lap was warm and his motoring pur seemed ro make her happy, the older woman didn’t have her own companion animal and Jimmy could share himself with his own people and the dumb short legged dogs, he was a proud Siamese with blue piercing eyes and didn’t miss much if the older human wanted to give him a few “meets” and have a sit he didn’t mind an meezer can do what he likes really humans are easily trained to understand meezer speak which is just as well as this day the older human woman wasn’t upright on two legs or sitting upon a chair like the humans liked to do, she was outside of her house lying down, this was wrong not on a morning when the grass was white with frost the human woman should have been in the warm place inside the house bt she wasn’t.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jimmy walked up to her and pushed at her with his paw<br />“Hey human what you doing out here” his voice more like a cry as most meezers are.<br />The human made a small noise<br />“mmmmm cat help me” she whispered<br />Jimmy thought for a moment the bell on his collar tinkled a little as he placed one paw again on the human, it was then he realized he was far too small to help the human up, humans got up by themselves normally and this one wasn’t he must help her.<br />Suddenly he sprang over the older humans body and flew across the white grass his paws hardly making a mark he was so fast, up over the fence post and across the gravel of the driveway, sprinting through the cat flap, jumping over the short slow dog and straight into the lap of his own human yelling at the tops of his meezer voice “come, come nowwww”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jimmy’s own human of course was well versed in meezer speak and knew exactly what Jimmy wanted specially when Jimmy went to the door “meeee ouuut nowwww”<br />Jimmy ran out in front of his human are you following he thought was he turned back and gave his human a push<br />“nowww”<br />Jimmy perched himself on top of the fence post still yelling, his human came closer and at last saw the older human woman lying outside of her house<br />“Shoot I’ll have to go around” his human said<br />“Pfft” thought Jimmy if you could only jump and run like I can</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is a true story Jimmy did find the lady next door lying outside of her house, she’d had an attack of some kind and collapsed outside, she had been lying there at least three hours it wasn’t until Jimmy alerted my Dad that she was found<br /><!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jimmy was a Tabby Point Siamese he lived for 15 years, with two very caring humans and a total of four Corgis over his lifetime </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-47385143643669653352011-09-25T12:50:00.001+10:002011-09-25T12:54:45.614+10:00The Pool<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">“What is that?”<br />“It’s a pool”<br />“Yes I can see that” she said peering over it looking at her reflection in the still slightly blue water, suddenly as she peered into it more another face appeared<br />“BOO” he exclaimed as he placed his hand on her shoulder<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">“Very funny ha ha almost fell in then” she exclaimed <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">She looked back into the depths of the pool, the water was so clear you could see the bottom were fish and tiny turtles gave the impression of swimming around in circles, so close but still so far.<br />How could this be she thought the water looked deep and mysterious, where they really there, she could only hope as she tentatively gazed into its depths<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">Maybe if I reach out and try to touch them<br />“You think they will swim away?” She said<br />“Will what swim away?”<br />‘There look in the pool” she said pointing her finger at the water<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">He laughed and almost fell in himself<br />“No I don’t think they will swim away, quite disciplined those are <span> </span>I’ve trained them very well” he said laughing<br />“They won’t swim away look” he said as he put one hand on the side of the pool, the water rippled slightly making the fish dart around even more, he very slowly placed his hand into the water and reached out and touched a fish<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">“OH! You touched one, let me let me” the girl was almost jumping up and down with excitement<br />“Ok but slowly or you might hurt something”<br />The girl gradually lowered her hand down into the water, and reached out to touch the fish.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt">Good thing she did it slowly too as her hand hit the bottom of the pool very quickly<br />for you see wading pools are not very deep at all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-29993916043791092112009-02-09T18:44:00.000+11:002009-05-12T02:23:24.858+10:00130+<font size="3"> The toll might over 130 now but that is just people<br>I was talking to my Aunt on the phone today had to ring her she lives in the Melbourne outskirts<br>My aunty shows Newfoundlands (huge hairy black or black and white dogs) and one of the breeders didn't turn up for a show yesterday the breeder lives in Kinglake <br>This woman has not only lost her home but her dogs and kennels as well<br> <br>Then there are the native animals the ones that can't get away so fast the koalas and lizards<br>(no one ever worries about the snakes) <br>It's not grazing land out there so not so many sheep and cattle but there will be horses and other smaller domestic pets<br>See it's not just the human lives that are being lost but animals , during Ash Wednesday a lot of sheep where trapped up against fences and unable to get away they were overrun by fire <br>I wasn't worried about my things when we evacuated only photo albums and my dog, my mothers corgi and our cat all three were secured and in the car before we were <br>Think I was even more worried about the cat that belonged to the landlord (they moved the cat wouldn't) it was loose wouldn't come near the house because of the dogs it did survive though same as our house because of the apple orchard sprinkler system <br>Think the worst thing was driving through the actual fire getting away not only the fire but the animals we saw running away as well mainly natives and rabbits <br>Ash Wednesday was bad but this ..this is worse I lived through Ash Wednesday and today with the smoke haze hanging around I was reminded of it same time of year only over 20 years ago now<br>The death toll from this one will rise the animals the ones in hospital with burns I know my best friend from High School her father was the last person to die from Ash Wednesday it took months for him to die from his burns it will be the same this time<br><br>The smell of smoke is the worst<br>It reminds me of fear<br>the fear of being over run of the uncontrollable<br>of death and devastation <br>of total black <br>a midday sun turned red<br>a totally different world of fear and angst <br>I hope to never have to live through that ever again<br><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Please if you wish to donate </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.redcross.org.au/vic/services_emergencyservices_victorian-bushfires-appeal-2009.htm">click here</a><span style="font-weight: bold;"> for more information - includes a number to call if you are outside of Australia and unable to contact relatives</span><br></font> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-73309766930977099132008-10-29T13:32:00.000+11:002009-05-12T02:23:15.578+10:00Cast Away <font size="3">A wave landed on the shore<br>A million displaced people<br>ragged and torn<br>crawling up the beach <br>the ship, the craft that carried them slowly trying to sink on the horizon<br>They sat as they were reborn welcoming those who came later<br>their open arms hugging and wrapping around more and more waves of the displaced<br>and still they watched their craft try to sink, never quite going under yet not righting itself either<br>As time passed they forgot about their ship it became fuzzy in their minds a forgotten relic of the past, hardly any new displaced came now they were not reminded of the past any more.<br><br>Yet one day suddenly another wave broke on the shore, a great crash of chattering people<br>They spoke of a far away land <br>How they had been thrown out by force, loaded up and corralled<br>The ships carrying them like cargo<br>Dumping them off shore then turning around for more<br>Crying and chattering the waves of people kept coming in more and more and more<br>This time was different though word had gotten through filtered on the wind that they were coming<br>This time a million were waiting with open arms with stories of how they too lost their homes<br>Waiting ready to teach the new survivors how to adapt to this new land <br>Some just sat and cried, they had arms to comfort them<br>Others wailed and made so much noise they had to be locked away with bottles of rum<br>Most just sat bewildered for a while not able to get through thier tortured minds that they were welcome in this new land<br><br>A million or more new survivors cast up on the shore <br>They settled, they made new homes and they Multiplied though just like the ones that came before<br><br><br><br></font> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-90015859915067519132008-08-08T20:42:00.000+10:002009-05-12T02:22:33.299+10:00not a memory I wanted <font style="font-family: ms gothic,gothic;" size="3">falling endlessly<br>darkness awaits<br>the stars twinkle and glitter above<br>darkness surrounds me<br>no sound<br>no birds no crickets chirp<br>only the sound of my own breathing <br>shallow but even <br>hard to tell now how far I've fallen <br>how far into the deep dark pit of sadness I've gone <br><br>I close my eyes I see his sleeping face <br>waxen and caked with morticians makeup <br>thin so thin<br>his hands together on his chest still spotted with age<br>I can't do this I can't see him like this yet I still see him like this <br>not a memory I want <br><br><br></font> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-20813590253761232982008-06-20T22:55:00.000+10:002008-06-21T02:59:13.371+10:00get on with it!<font style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;<br />" size="3">I'm telling you don't do it, no kidding don't ..oh you did didn't you , couldn't help it could you , you just had to go ahead and do it<br>Look at the mess you've made now , its all over the place and you are sat in it as well, <span style="font-style: italic;<br />">why do they allways sit in it?</span><br><br>I'm not cleaning this mess up you realise, no not doing it you are going to have to clean this one up all by yourself , last time you did this it took 2 weeks of scrubbing to get this place cleaned up.<br><br>Now you have gone and done it again , I'm not happy you know<br>I want this place cleaned up by tommorrow at the latest , you hear me<br>What was that ? Did I hear sorry? Don't think I did you know , you do know how to say the word don't you its not that difficult.<br><br>Look I've had enough of you, this had better be cleaned up next time I look or you won't play in here agian<br>What you don't realise, this isn't just your area you have messed up , its not mine either it belongs to everyone and I want to see you down on your hands and knees scrubbing this place clean , not for me for everyone else<br>You haven't just let me down but everyone else as well , we aren't happy not one bit<br><br>Now get on with it!<br><br><font size="2"><span style="font-style: italic;<br />">I'm posting this here as well so it will cross post too blogger/multiply</span></font><br></font> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-21133828746116351212008-03-05T00:15:00.000+11:002008-03-05T05:32:14.732+11:00I'm wearing a bucket<font style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" size="3">just a bucket<br>nothing else<br>its got flowers on it<br>you can put fish in it<br>or a sponge for cleaning things<br><br><br>Its 5am here <br>I need to sleep but can't<br>I lie in bed thinking <br>brain going million miles an hour<br>what can I do next<br>how can I do that <br>I sleep for a while then the phone rings<br>or the snoring wakes me <br>Shouldn't even be on here now<br>should be sleeping but I can't <br>too much to do <br>too much too think about <br>Old magazines<br>New desks<br>Tattoo's<br>Elephants and Spawn<br>Not looking at spoilers of Lost<br>Want to know who wins American Idol instead<br>Want to know why that judge on that show doesn't take a happy pill<br><br>Think I'll be seeing another sunrise soon <br>Which is good in a way <br>means I'm still alive <br><br></font> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-22077459317356607912007-11-10T21:38:00.000+11:002008-02-13T03:46:58.664+11:00Not that great <font style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" size="3">Sometimes I try to write but I'm not all that great my poems aren't good either, I can't just whip one up on the spur of the moment they <span style="font-style: italic;">happen</span> sure but try to sit down and write one nope that doesn't happen, poems appear for me I can't make them appear they just <span style="font-style: italic;">happen</span><br><br>Writing is the same even though a "short" is something I can make happen they unlike poems don't just appear I make notes, I think over them..no I don't drool over them that's silly.<br>See I'm a popper when it comes to a "short" mostly if I think too much nothing comes out at all, if I'm interrupted which is most times the thought process stops completely that's why most of my stories are short which is amazing as I have trouble with ends ... don't know when to shut up ;)<br><br>So for me to be in a group like<a style="color: rgb(255, 255, 153);" href="http://sacredsongspace.multiply.com/"> this one</a> is like being in the "fast tracked" class at school, its difficult for me I'm a bit slow compared to the rest but at least I try <br>This week was Season of Change it had colours one of which I had to get out the dictionary to find out what it meant and it had to be melancholy or sad something I don't normally do either, most of my stories have a happy or surprise ending.<br>So here's me looking up the words thinking oh boy I can't make a poem appear and the seasons here are different so I'll have to do something 'left of center' <br>Anyway this was my thought process<br>Colours, multicoloured, reds browns blues = opals <br>Hard shell, reddish brown = the earth <br>Opals are mined where the ground is white, soooo that's no good **was slapping head at this point**<br>Gold is mined from dark earth and is found with quartz < -- YaY ... see easy (yeah right only took me 2 days to get to that *doh*)<br><br>This is my short..my short that took days </font><br><br> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal"><font size="5">Mosaic of the fall</font></p> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal">“I told you to shore that up didn’t I” the older miner said, the red dust mixing with his sweat making his face the same colour as the surrounding earth, he was now a tawny reddish brown from head to foot the only colour visible was<span style=""> </span>his eyes the colour of a blue topaz </p> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal">“You trying to kill us both?” he yelled at the younger man, he had only taken him on because he was getting older now the mine almost getting too much for him to work on his own, the younger man a son of a friend as he had no son’s of his own.<br> No wife would accept a miner as a husband clothes sepia like the landscape, his shell his miners shell as hard to break through as the land itself </p> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal">They used explosives down in the cold hard earth, partly deaf now and going blind his eyes accustomed to the dark the older miner never really saw the seasons he saw rock, he saw gold he saw profit.</p> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal">His life as it was, was coming to an end and the younger man would be his legacy. The younger man who picked up a rock saw the beauty that the older now did not see; he saw the colours he saw the seasons of eons in the rock. He saw the dust falling from the ceiling of the mine, like tiny pieces of the older man falling away his life his work slowing drifting down, he saw but his shout was too late another slide another fall, fell between him and the older man.<br> As he emerged dusty, covered in head to toe an almost invisible object on the pock covered landscape a tear rolled down his face turning brown as it rolled across his face he wiped it away with the back of his hand leaving a smear on his face </p> <p style="font-family: georgia,times new roman,times,serif;" class="MsoNormal">He muttered sadly “He never saw the colours… he never saw them”</p> <br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-82008920837090153162007-09-11T02:04:00.000+10:002007-09-11T02:07:26.900+10:00At the Window<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1068/1321709841_b8afc7ff67_b.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 360px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1068/1321709841_b8afc7ff67_b.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);" lang="EN-AU">Dana writing challenge <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);" lang="EN-AU">“Why that little girl is in that house and what happened”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);" lang="EN-AU">For Dana…..<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Hey mom you can see for miles from up here this is cool mom, mom, hey mom, where you go mommmmmmm<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Pardon honey what you say<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">You can see miles from up here mom<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">I know that’s why I love this place, so high up on the hill always used to come here myself when I was small with my parents your grandparents, when the place wasn’t like it was now of course back then it was beautiful no weeds grew in the garden, the walls covered in a pretty wallpaper and red curtains hung at that same window you are at now magnificent rugs covered the floor and almost every weekend they held huge parties carriage loads of people arrived, the grooms in their red uniforms leading the horses away and bringing them back at the end of the night <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Careful honey you might fall”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">The girl leaned a little further out of the window<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Part of the windowsill suddenly broke away and fell onto the floor, startling her and making her fall back into the room tripping over the broken slate floor<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“owwwch, mom I hurt my knee”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Told you to be careful didn’t I<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Yeah I know mom I know” the girl cheekily grinned back “what happened here anyway mom why is this house like this now?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Well honey I’ll tell you come sit here beside me and we can eat our picnic right here in this room, this is where it started you know the fire caught hold from a dropped lantern the oil spilling across the rug and over the curtains there was nothing anyone could do the interior of the house was almost totally destroyed in a matter of hours this part the shell was saved but no one wanted to live here any more.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Well I can see why, there’s nothing much left now apart from the view” the girl said sadly<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“See there was a scandal in this house the master of the house was caught in bed with one of the downstairs maids, the girl of course was dismissed but Mister Smith got into a huge fight with the lady of the house I’m not sure exactly what happened but I heard that he killed her and buried her in the cellar” her mother whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Oh mom he did not she’s still alive and living by the sea, Miss Melissa told me that”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“By the sea well then she can’t be buried in the cellar then can she I do know that they did have a huge fight because I was told you could hear it all the way down into the town then there was a crash and after that the house could be seen on fire. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Do you think its Mr Smith that’s buried in the cellar? We could go look you know” her mother asked her tipping her head to one side and raising one eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“No mom I don’t think so, you can but I won’t be I’ll just be very careful and look out of the window again I want to think about how this place was back then, the parties the dresses and the music it must have been a wonderful place”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Yes it was wonderful honey unless of course you where murdered and buried in the cellar” her mother said giving her a wink.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">“Oh mom you are such a joker” the girl laughed as she helped her mother pack up the picnic things<br />”its just an old half burned down house now but I kinda like it as it is I can imagine what it was like all those years ago and look out of the window and ….<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Hey mom I can see our house hey mom, mom where you go MOM “ the girl yelled but her mother had gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">Gone out through where the magnificent wooden main entrance doors once stood but now where just an archway covered in the leaves of some vine, her mother was walking home it was almost time to start getting dinner ready<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(255, 255, 204);" lang="EN-AU">She knew the girl would come running up after her shortly, she always did.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-AU"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-53115279697998320412007-07-14T18:22:00.000+10:002007-07-14T18:26:37.754+10:00The Book<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">The Book</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">She very carefully removed the fragile book from inside its glass case, wearing gloves so as not to mark the pages as books now where a rarity now only seen by visitors to the museum and only then under glass in controlled conditions</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">The book itself wasn’t so special there where other paperbacks in the museum other books written by other authors but this book was special</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">The author was famous most books by the literary greats had disintegrated over the years very few copies survived, others that had survived didn’t have the special touch that this author had.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">She had changed the world through her writing not just one book but many, stories thoughts, poems and questions posed, she changed the world and how people saw the plight of not just her own people but many all over the globe.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">She bought the community together in gatherings reading, thinking and discussing her ideas her thoughts.<br />Even though that was many years ago before the sun started to go out making the bright days of sunshine and warmth a thing of the past her books still survived, survived because of her special contact, survived because of who she was, survived because she touched them.<br />The museum worker carefully turned the page to the next one so the visitors could read it, delicately placing the book back under the cover she wiped the glass and very lightly wiped the brass plate in front of the case</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""> </span>it read<br />”Dana Dane – She found her voice and spoke to us all”</span><o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-33799052500942197522007-07-12T16:40:00.000+10:002007-07-14T16:52:26.596+10:00Where do I live<p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Where do I live, a writers union challenge January 12, 2007<br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><a style="color: blue; text-decoration: underline;" href="http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-obDRMLcoKPBkAAecvb4wcY6CfWx2qlFd?p=50" target="_blank">Y!360 Writers Union</a></span></p><br /><p><strong><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Where do I live.</span></strong></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I don’t live anywhere interesting like a reservation, with<br />strange objects pointing too the sky and alien landing craft in the middle of<br />the town.</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I don’t live near a beautiful harbor </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">But I do live in the middle of a place where bushrangers<br />once roamed,</span><a href="http://www.ironoutlaw.com/"><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:Qm3-3dtcXy47wM:http://www.secretsof.com/embroiderytips/outback/designs/assortedtoille2/thumbnails/Aussie%2520Bushranger.jpg" height="95" width="96" /></a><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">where the soil is red, the sky blue,</span><img alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/47/130661667_c59af20491.jpg?v=0" height="164" width="216" /><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">the sun a bright orange ball at sunset,</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">the moon a face in the night sky</span></p><br /><p><img alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/152/353306938_171d138d58_m.jpg" height="196" width="227" /></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">A place of diversity a place of many cultures</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">A place of distances and long car trips, a country whose<br />animals differ in size from the smallest penguin</span><a href="http://teachit.acreekps.vic.edu.au/animals/fairypenguin.htm"><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:ZniRDnVqPF-9QM:http://www.windgrove.com/mtblogpix/fairy%2520penguin.jpg" height="125" width="110" /></a><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> and the whales are larger than a<br />house</span></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">A country where thongs are worn on feet and stubbies are<br />kept in eskies</span></p><br /><p><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:ia5Z1X_pkkI-0M:http://www.aussieoutpost.com/catalog/cooler48qt.jpg" height="88" width="115" /><span style="font-family:Georgia;">, where meat is minced and </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Emu is not on the menu</span><a href="http://www.international.adelaide.edu.au/living/intro.html"><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:YULEO7T_uoSoAM:http://www.abc.net.au/newengland/stories/Australian_m1151959.jpg" height="89" width="116" /></a></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I live in a place, in the future but not too far away,<br />where summer is winter and winter summer, where it snows in July </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 204); font-family: arial,sans-serif;" href="http://www.australianbedandbreakfast.com.au/nsw-act-bandb/gallery/images/"><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:5MsbyXWjcv_7XM:http://www.australianbedandbreakfast.com.au/nsw-act-bandb/gallery/images/snowy-mountains.jpg" height="85" width="127" /></a></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">and December is hot</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">A place of states and territories and meeting<br />places</span></p><br /><p><a href="http://www.australianexplorer.com/canberra_parliament_house.htm"><img src="http://images.google.com.au/images?q=tbn:HTcF2bbWLuCD2M:http://www.australianexplorer.com/photographs/australian_capital_territory/canberra_parliament_house_1.jpg" height="82" width="124" /></a></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Of green and gold at cricket matches</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Where we laugh at Kylie Minouge</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Where we have secret clones of Sam Neil,</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"></span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0205873/"><img alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/131/353306941_98c57dcf85_m.jpg" height="240" width="160" /></a><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> hidden away for the next Matrix<br />movie</span></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Where do I live?</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">The middle of Australia, four hours drive away from snow<br />in winter, six hours away from the nearest beach, </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">where our cars wear yellow plates</span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"></span><img alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/38/77867349_673707c4e9.jpg?v=0" height="162" width="271" /></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">and driving on the left is the thing too do,</span></p><br /><p><img alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/51/131169274_b9a926b7e9.jpg?v=0" height="202" width="263" /><span style="font-family:Georgia;"> </span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;">unless you like the men in blue.</span></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Some photos are mine, the moon is Gabi's others are from<br />Google, some are clickable too</span></em></p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-85504560818859454532007-07-12T16:37:00.000+10:002007-07-14T16:51:38.139+10:00As the Wter Rises<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUB_1lNZv3i5X-0v5S5CHbke3LQ71rd0LdtNQPXuflKx2vd0zC2QbiYh-a9hEOfpYgj5HT7dnQbjdR4vLTr7-i5bzQrxKR5toeviqqcLGWhaIvMJsCFvDNg9UOoebGQnITkTXTSENZMqWr/s1600-h/water-rises.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUB_1lNZv3i5X-0v5S5CHbke3LQ71rd0LdtNQPXuflKx2vd0zC2QbiYh-a9hEOfpYgj5HT7dnQbjdR4vLTr7-i5bzQrxKR5toeviqqcLGWhaIvMJsCFvDNg9UOoebGQnITkTXTSENZMqWr/s320/water-rises.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086938415834765314" border="0" /></a><br />As the water rises .... January 28, 2007<br /><a href="http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-obDRMLcoKPBkAAecvb4wcY6CfWx2qlFd?p=283#comments"> 360º Writers Union<br /><br />Challenge 4 “A picture is worth a thousand words”</a><br /><br /><br /><br />“You know I saw another dolphin today, I swear this one was carrying a briefcase”<br /><br />“That’s your imagination Harriet” Edward grumbled as he staggered behind her with the groceries, yet again walking well wading was more of the word, they had abandoned using the car when the tyres started getting caught on coral, dang stuff was everywhere now, you had too be careful where you stepped too the coral was sharp and could go right through your shoes, shoes that squelched mind you, always wet, always the water, it was getting higher too.<br /><br />The media said the water wasn’t rising but Edward could tell, I mean letter boxes don’t just float away, do they and his had, he had been looking out the kitchen window and saw the letter box just sailing away down the street it had looked like a turtle had it in it’s mouth but no that was his imagination that was, turtles didn’t come this far inland I mean when was the last time you saw a turtle in Kansas like never! Turtles don’t live in Kansas that’s just silly but then polar bears don’t either and Harriet said she had seen one going through the rubbish bins down by the grocery store. Edward had told her it must have been a vagrant some poor guy down on his luck wearing a white garbage bag there was no way it could have been a polar bear<br /><br />“Come on Edward you slow poke” you don’t want too be missing the Jacques Cousteau special and I want too get home before these fish and chips get cold you know they go soggy if they are in the bag too long<br /><br />“You know Harriet we just might have too trade in the car for a boat, the Marcy’s have one now”<br /><br />“What do we want a boat for Edward?” Harriet gave him one of her sideways glances as she arranged the fish and chips on a plate “The water is going down the TV man said so”<br /><br />No its not, there’s more water every day we have less and less front lawn all the time, how long did it take me too mow it on Saturday what about 10 minutes you know it used too take me at least an hour and I got all sand and pebbles on the blades this time too<br /><br />You know if this keeps up we may have too just take that cruise and I don’t think we will have too go far for the cruise boat either listen<br /><br />“Honk, Hooooooook”<br /><br />That’s the TV Edward I think you watch too much Jacques Cousteau<br /><br /><br />And so while Harriet and Edward ate and watched TV the water continued too rise, it had been rising it wasn’t their imaginations, the fish where taking over, the arctic animals where migrating because as the ice melted and the sea rose they has no where else too go<br /><br />Sometime in the near future Harriet and Edward would either be<br />a.Eaten by a polar bear b.Float away in a balloon with Kevin Costner c.Just plain drown d.Grow gills and turn into fish e.any or all of the above See results<div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-48767752556994477392007-07-11T16:33:00.000+10:002007-07-14T16:53:49.722+10:00Crying in the Night<dt class="post-head">A Sharky Writing Challenge ... January 07, 2007<br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">A </span><a href="http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-eit4GxMwb6eJTy2j3n_w4ASQ?p=2769&n=28500" target="_blank"><span style="font-size:100%;">Sharkly Writing Challenge</span></a></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Crying in the<br />night</span></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She was bending over at the<br />wooden door the sweat pouring off her, her heart beating rapidly I can't<br />possibly do this she thought and she was still feverishly hammering thinking of<br />the horrible noises she had heard down in the dark gloomy basement last night,<br />when she heard a noise stood up straight and turned around too put the hammer<br />down on the table and another hand a cool smooth hand touched<br />hers</span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">She jumped back and dropped<br />the hammer on her foot </span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“OW”</span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“Hey babe” her next door<br />neighbour virtually yelled in her ear </span></span></p>“Didn’t mean too scare you just bringing in some lettuce and tomatoes from me garden you know mine are the <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">freshest around”</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">He looked at the door then<br />the nails sticking out haphazardly this way and that, bent over some even on the<br />floor, hammer marks on the wood then turned to her standing there with a look on<br />her face like a scared deer under the headlights standing on one leg holding<br />trying too hold her foot in one hand.</span></span></p>He hurriedly placed the sack <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">on the counter and grabber her by the shoulder guiding her too a chair, </span></span>“Here sit hunny I’ll make you <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">a cup of tea”</span></span><br />“Gordon you know I don’t like tea and I don’t like you calling me hunny either and don't yell in my ear” Now she was rubbing her foot in one hand and her ear with the <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">other</span></span></dt><dt class="post-head">But hun’ he stopped himself<br /></dt><dt class="post-head">Helen you look like someone just died and why in the name of all is holy have <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">made such a mess of that door</span></span></dt><dt class="post-head">“Coffee Gordon” she gasped <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">and I’ll tell you all about it</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Early this morning I woke to<br />the sound of a baby crying</span></span><br />“Ain’t no babies around here <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Helen”</span></span></p></dt><dt class="post-head">“I know that Gordon now don’t <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">interrupt”</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I woke too the sound of a<br />baby crying and well I know there aren’t any around here not unless<br />someone’s<span> </span>got one hidden and you know this neighbourhood I don’t<br />think that secret would keep long</span></span></p>As I came down the stairs too the kitchen, the crying got louder and more intense, it seemed too be coming <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">from the behind that door she pointed too the basement door</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It was very dark and very<br />cold down there I’ve never been further than the bottom of the stairs down there<br />in the basement I don’t like it never have</span></span><br />Even though the rest of the house is bright and sunny the basement is cold dark and gloomy and it smells <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">nasty too</span></span></p></dt><dt class="post-head">I just don’t go down there at all but the crying was coming from down there I just had too go it was so pain filled and the feeling I was getting from it well it was making me cry too I had too go, step by step in the dark each step getting closer too the <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">sound</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Suddenly</span></span></p><br /><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“Whoa what’s that” Gordon<br />jumped back spilling his coffee on the table</span></span></p>“Oh that Gordon is the source of the crying, that cat was trapped down in the basement and it was crying its head off, of course it wasn’t going too sit at the door oh no, I had too go <span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">right down and grab it too get it out.</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Help me hammer these last few<br />nails into the cat door will you please Gordon otherwise that door will never be<br />opened again and that cats going too wake me up every night"</span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>What did you think it was<br />going too be Zombies hehehehe<br />If you want too do your own go <a href="http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-eit4GxMwb6eJTy2j3n_w4ASQ?p=2769&n=28500">here<br />for rules</a></em></span></span></p></dt><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-26958352907420394142007-07-10T23:10:00.000+10:002007-07-10T23:11:07.510+10:00Some PeopleSome people think I'm mean<br />I'm not mean just sarcastic<br />Some people think I don't like them<br />I like them its just that I don't show it<br />Some people think I'm aloof<br />I'm not I'm shy and reserved<br />Some people think I'm a know it all<br />Well I'm not no one knows everything -- I use Google<br />Some people think I don't trust them<br />I don't .....I'm paranoid from being betrayed to many times<br />Some people think I'm a better speller<br />I'm not I use the FireFox spell checker<br />Some people think I'm sat here all day<br />I'm not I do sleep sometimes<br />by<br />© Missy A<div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-44897933796392099252007-07-04T17:11:00.001+10:002008-02-13T03:47:13.840+11:00For My Dad.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYf8XoWToeJJSWnlf1nWm1Yd14m5xgeLNjoHhg6TRy-qUAs4NUhpY7hpSSORQ1r-9gQhiaYKf3F26ylvos2Pn20XmvX9AIQGKl3R-KqIhr6Ho0_rhnC3Gn0fz0qOAsOOItgwrOz_2SzqH/s1600-h/clock.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqYf8XoWToeJJSWnlf1nWm1Yd14m5xgeLNjoHhg6TRy-qUAs4NUhpY7hpSSORQ1r-9gQhiaYKf3F26ylvos2Pn20XmvX9AIQGKl3R-KqIhr6Ho0_rhnC3Gn0fz0qOAsOOItgwrOz_2SzqH/s320/clock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083236062353273522" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My dad</span><br /><br />He stands with his hands on his hips<br /><br />He’s slightly stooped<br /><br />He coughs from the coal dust of many years ago<br /><br />Thin and grey now<br /><br />But I remember a tall middle aged man<br /><br />Who would sit me on his lap and let me stroke his fine black hair<br /><br />Already starting to grey a little by the time I was born<br /><br />That’s my dad<br /><br />A great grand father<br /><br />Like his clock<br /><br />Tall but slightly battered through travels of many countries<br /><br />But now my dad has Parkinson’s his hands wobble<br /><br />He has trouble moving<br /><br />His clock a great, great grandfather of a clock will outlast him<br /><br />Like it has other generations of our family<div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-77729179264842580792007-06-02T21:43:00.000+10:002007-06-03T15:59:30.583+10:00Ama and the DragonsAma and the Dragons<br /><em>My apologies to Anne McCaffrey</em><br /><br />Ama quickly braided her hair<br />“Hurry up” her partner yelled from the kitchen “you know they don’t like it if we are late”<br />“Well you could have helped me” Ama said<br />“You know I can’t braid, besides I’m trying too bake here and I’m covered in flour still, you want me to turn up with both of us covered in flour”<br />”Yep, I do that would be funny, we can be flowers” She said as she projected a picture of them both dressed as huge daisies into her partners mind”<br />Oh, silly you make me laugh and I can’t cook while I’m bent over double either, you silly girl” her partner giggled<br />Ama walked into the kitchen where her partner was fussing around always did when they had a visit from the dragons<br />“Stand still will you I can’t do your hair if you are constantly moving”<br />Ama placed her hand on her partner’s neck slowly caressing it<br />“Hey quit that will you we don’t have time, you get me started and then we will be late”<br />“You are such a spoilsport” Ama said giggling as she helped place the now golden, fresh baked biscuits in the carrying basket “I’m only teasing you I know we don’t have time, will later on though won’t we” she whispered placing her hand gently on her partners waist as they walked through their own little garden<br />Ama had done all the plantings, sweet honeysuckle bloomed everywhere, the smell almost overpowering when you first arrived but after a while it wasn’t noticeable at all, the flowers bloomed the fruit grew under Ama’s hands.<br />That was her specialty symbiosis with growing things, she could heal as well but not as well as her partner did that in a way was why they where together the dragons found the special people and partnered them up together and they always stayed together for life Ama could grow things and her partner healed, they spent most of their workdays at the hospital, working together side by side their own symbiosis so powerful that they knew exactly where the other one was working on the patient<br />Seeing into the patient, manipulating muscle even blood flow, surgery and incisions now a thing of some long lost forgotten past just yesterday they healed a broken arm of a small boy who had fallen out of a tree and cured the weakness in his bones that caused them to break, a new born baby with a cleft palate was able to feed properly and would now live a long life and an old man brought in from miles away by his family could now see again his cataracts and poor sight now completely healed.<br />Of course the hospital gardens bloomed and occasionally Ama would visit a farmer with a problem tending his crops of course if it was acres of fields she would have to bring in outside help especially with locust protection as Ama herself nor her partner could put up a defensive shield with their minds or the garden centre where people would bring in plants broken by an animal or dying from inadequate care those she would help and mend as well.<br /><br />The partnered teams worked together all over the world, in hospitals, in industry even in transport the powers of their minds instantly transporting things from the mundane to the fragile, their abilities helping with crowd control and disaster recovery<br />The special people like Ama and her partner where few though and the dragons where always looking, searching for more, different talents matured at different rates some finding that they could move things at a very early age others especially those who heard voices would almost go insane before they where discovered.<br /><br />Today the dragons where visiting their community this was a big event there was food and music of course and not just the dragons but other talents from all over came to discuss events and gossip of which being talents there wasn’t much after all most could read each others thoughts but that was considered rude to eavesdrop on someones private thoughts even though it had stopped quite a few murders and suicides of non-talents it was considered rude<br /><br />As they walked into the huge area where the gathering was taking place, the babble of voices hit them hard almost covering their ears they dashed up to the tables where all the food that was brought in was being arranged, different foods from all over the world, curries from India, tiny little delicate scones and lamingtons both brown and pink from Australia even the long thin spare ribs covered in all kinds of spicy marinate from the Americas<br />”Ama I’ve only done biscuits again do it every time heres everyone else’s wonderful food and I do biscuits” her partner whispered<br />"Darling we are medics, healers not cooks we bring something which is more than I can say for some" Ama said glancing over at Fredrick and his partner Freda, specialists in cargo and freight they where sitting on one of the benches not far away, stuffing their faces already on other peoples food they where heavy haulers all right both of them only just fit on the bench and it was made for five people<br /><em>Shhhhh don’t even think that they might hear you</em> her partner winced thinking at her ”Darling don’t do that” Ama said aloud “you know I can only just hear you anyway besides your telepathy isn’t all that good you might strain something in that sexy brain of yours”<br /><em></em><br /><em>Can’t hear what</em> a very loud voice boomed right into her ear<br />”Owww” Ama winced “you don’t have to shout at me I can hear you fine Fredrick, we where just saying how fine you look today” Ama said aloud, her block in place she knew he wouldn’t be able to read anymore of her thoughts<br />"Yeah fine, just fine and dandy girl” Fredrick gave her this look, he didn’t like her either, minor talent pfft he was thinking and she didn’t need to read his mind to know that either<br />"You wait Fredrick you get a neck strain from sitting at that desk looking at monitors all day then I’ll fix you right up ok” Ama cheekily replied giving him a great big over acted wink “remember lift with your knees not your back” she called after him as he lumbered away a big grunting humph came into her mind Ama started giggling again<br />”You will get us in trouble you will”<br />”No I won’t, the dragons know exactly what Fredrick is like, he’s just a big grumpy puss sometimes, works too hard he does” she said, loud enough for the people around them to hear<br /><br />“Ama lets get out of here grab a seat this place is getting crowded the dragons will be here soon anyway we really should sit”<br />She looked around it sure was getting crowded, the place did look awesome though and their community was lucky to get the gathering most communities had to have at least 4 or more talents working there, have a site large enough to hold everyone even then they had to put in a bid for the privilege like the Olympic games that the non-talents held every four years, this was a big event and almost everyone was here<br />Seated on the benches all around the arena she could see as they squeezed past rows of people many different hues of blue and yellow and green some wearing the whole rainbow well it looked like that anyway, the major talents who could basically do anything wore a small rainbow badge not just a scarf, headband or ribbon in their hair like Ama and her partner wore, theirs of course was green for medic, a pale sea green.<br />Fredrick and Freda wore bright red neckties and dark suits the colour of heavy lifters<br />“They arrive, they come” <em>they are here</em> the whispers started almost as soon as Ama and her partner settled them selves down<br />The whole arena seemed to spark electricity as a pair of dragons just appeared in the sky above casting a shadow across the finely clipped grass, slowly gliding in to land they spread their arms wide in greeting<br />Settling in the middle of the arena these two where the first of almost twenty dragons making a circle in the middle of the arena facing outwards, their eyes glittered and whirled as their un-spoken words where heard by everyone with talent.<br /><em>You are the chosen</em> their thoughts projected outwards towards the crowd <em>you are the new world, we found you all and brought you together through us and through you the world is a better place. We protect you and we love you all of you</em>.<br />The dragons projected images of love and flowers to all around even those of non-talent started hugging each other<br />These where the dragons and Ama and her partner who was also her lover where a part of the new talents of the world.<br /><br />© Missy A. June 2007<div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-63751405637142328272007-05-07T01:51:00.001+10:002007-05-07T01:56:15.464+10:00Long lost love found again<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zts340RJxco/Rj36QEDV7MI/AAAAAAAAADI/YPuoUDrXbbU/s1600-h/c2f2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061476710106918082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zts340RJxco/Rj36QEDV7MI/AAAAAAAAADI/YPuoUDrXbbU/s200/c2f2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>She had lost him once, separated by circumstances their lives had gone in unconnected ways a fading memory of him in the back of her heart still held him close a memory fading like a sepia photograph slipping away into the nothingness she had lost him her first love their lives traveling on different paths many miles apart.<br />Till one day the man stopping at a distant wayside café happened to pick up an old faded newspaper a newspaper with only a single advertisement showing, a happy smiling face and the man knew as he had been told by his wise grandmother that this happy face would lead him back to his long lost love and so his search began, slinging his drum over his shoulder he set off on the long journey to find his love once again.<br />Would he find her, would she be traveling alone this he wouldn’t know he would just have to find out</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The woman tired sat down her feet sore from walking, all day she had been picking up the discarded cans and assorted rubbish that the tourists just threw out of their car windows, they came for the casino they didn’t care about the land didn’t care about her heritage, they played black jack and poker and bought cheap plastic trinkets from the gift shop, they never saw the beauty of the land but the woman did, she saw the sunsets the tiny wildflowers poking up out of the cracks in the piles of garbage she saw the beauty.<br />She also saw a shadow fall across her feet and realized that a path had opened up in front of her, a path that would now be shared by not just herself and her memories but with the man in the photograph of her memory, his shadow warming her heart and suddenly springing back to clarity the picture of her long lost love.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And as he placed his drum down beside her and slowly knelt down he said “Will you marry me my long lost love”</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-18676449050114998712007-05-02T16:33:00.000+10:002007-05-02T16:36:44.723+10:00So sickI’m sick<br />Sick of the drama<br />Sick of the needy wanting people<br />Sick of the fake people<br />Sick of the cliques<br />Sick of 360° acting up and not getting any feedback from the 360° team<br />Sick of the 360° product blog treating everyone like 4 year olds<br />Sick of seeing the same interesting pages for the last 5 months<br />Sick of Yahoo deleting 360° pages without warning and without reason<br />Sick of the lame so called yahoo police who report pages for the fun of it<br />Sick of my Home page not updating properly<br />Sick of people’s blog updates not showing up till sometimes days afterwards<br />Sick of the idiots<br />Sick of the morons<br />Sick of people with white page backgrounds who's themes take ages to load <br />Sick of Yahoo and the problems that it has<br />I’m sick of the whole thing<br />Shut down the ride I want to get off<br />I want to go home.<br />If you want me I’ll be <a href="http://www.myspace.com/deadmansmistress" target="_blank">elsewhere</a> till Yahoo gets its act together.<br />So I’ll see you again on Yahoo in oh about 100 years!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-28748321793830500672007-04-26T17:05:00.000+10:002007-04-26T17:15:26.111+10:00The blog post where the story is in the comments<span style="font-size:130%;">You might have realized by now that I'm not a very good short story writer, its the ideas that escape me and for some reason I can never come up with a good ending<br /><br />So this blog is for YOU<br />Write some more on this short story and the next person who comments after you writes some more it will be like one one my stories it won't have an ending ever!<br /><br /></span><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Once a young girl was riding her horse along the deserted beach,<br />galloping freely along her ride was very enjoyabe today the sun was shining the birds where not dropping messages on her head, she hated that, today though was a good day<br />when suddenly.................<br /></span></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-91981278967842132022007-04-08T01:49:00.000+10:002007-04-08T01:52:04.271+10:00The Dark Mistress Speaks<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Sometimes we just die on the inside</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Everyday a little more</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Drowning in the depths of sorrow</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Forlorn and gone</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">All light missing</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">The things we once loved gone</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Darkness overtakes</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">we call</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">but no one answers</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">our hearts breaking</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">twisted and broken</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">thrown on the pile</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">growing higher and higher</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Nothing can mend a broken heart</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Blood spews forth</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Covering the ground</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">darkness overtakes</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">we die a little more</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">-The Dark Mistress</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-54604387502224990102007-03-24T20:20:00.000+11:002007-03-24T20:54:13.417+11:00The Eagles Shadow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqstT4kbHWPDtSwIGYKBVcKIkmnE3l4kRvKYjaY6tyfp2ZKA5yIQJZDLf6jw1v2R-9HAvET-jryWx2eJdOoOFQBTMFCrHzkty2PFbzdtY7kZual1MRsIVuP4dI1dpWDkO6MgHOlr3It4Da/s1600-h/Bald-Eagle-Flying-Animal-.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045426116649971682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqstT4kbHWPDtSwIGYKBVcKIkmnE3l4kRvKYjaY6tyfp2ZKA5yIQJZDLf6jw1v2R-9HAvET-jryWx2eJdOoOFQBTMFCrHzkty2PFbzdtY7kZual1MRsIVuP4dI1dpWDkO6MgHOlr3It4Da/s200/Bald-Eagle-Flying-Animal-.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Half asleep she picked up her bag of beads and started forming the outline for her latest project, her eyes sore and fingers so tired that they could hardly hold the tiny beads but this would be a special project one that would keep him in her spell forever.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Faster she beaded, fingers nimbly flying her mind in another world thinking always thinking not looking at what she was doing her eyes half shut, the darkness of sleep closed in yet her fingers still flew across her work. In her dream she saw lightning flash heard the voices of many people murmuring about her strengths, she saw an eagle flying across the moonlight sky the faces of her people upturned to watch ”She’s here” they shouted “the maiden has returned to us with her help her strength we can do anything”<br />A shadowy figure passed in front of the crowd of people, the girl her fingers still beading moaned in her sleep “No” she moaned “not him again”He had appeared in her dreams before always sucking the strength from her before the dream played out but this time it would be different.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">The eagle swooped down and landed the people crowded around it “she is ours, we are she” they chanted “she is ours we are she, she is our protector, we are hers, the shadow of the eagle will not take her this time”</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">He started to close in on the eagle, her bead work almost finished now and her hands slowing as he approached “I will have her strength” he shouted</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">It was not to be for the girl awoke suddenly a small child tugging at her sleeve “Mum, wake up, the hamburger is burning” they yelled in her ear.”</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">I was awake and you don’t have to yell” the girl said back as she looked down at her now finished project of the eagle with the dark shadowy almost invisible figure so hidden in the shadow of the eagle that you could hardly see it in it’s talons. ”</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">Maybe at one time you had hold of me but now buddy I have you” she triumphantly uttered as she placed the finished pattern of beads back down on the chair she had been napping on and walked off too finish cooking dinner</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-39426777431235112762007-03-09T10:47:00.000+11:002007-03-09T10:51:25.396+11:00Wary and Anger<span style="font-size:180%;">It doesn’t happen</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">I am not impulsive<br />The thought must be thought of a lot<br />Thrown around and moved<br />And sorted<br />Shaken up<br />My thoughts clear<br />The how’s and why’s gone over<br />Sometimes thinking so much<br />That<br />It just never happens at all<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Anger</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It comes in waves<br />Dark and red<br />The anger flowing out<br />Hitting the tidal wall of my mind<br />The lapping at the shore is the only thing you see<br />The anger is hidden, tucked away<br />For I am frightened of my own anger<br />The part of me you do not see<br />As it scares me to think of what I might do or say<br />You will not hear the raised voice<br />You will not see anything smashed<br />You just will not see me at all<br /> </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-87813324195559873782007-02-06T23:06:00.000+11:002007-02-06T23:13:15.341+11:00The eyes<a href="http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l187/Lore__/DSCN1803.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l187/Lore__/DSCN1803.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:180%;">The eyes</span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Those big brown eyes had him again, caught between those liquid pools of her eyes and the flow of words he was trapped yet again, good thing he was sitting down or he would have fainted she had really taken his breath away this time, I’m yours he murmured a faintly heard whisper against the noise of the computers fan “I’m yours”<br />He couldn’t help but love this woman, glancing between her picture and her written words he was trapped didn’t know which way too look, he had never held her in his arms never kissed or caressed her, he had heard her sweet voice though tinny through the telephone somehow different again than when he had heard her though his computer speakers it was still the same brown eyed woman he knew.<br />The man leaned back in his computer chair and reached for the bracelet, it was hers well his now she had made it, the bracelet picked up the light from his screen and shone it back on his face, a multitude of tiny coloured dots reflected off the tiny beads each one fashioned too look like a diamond a handcrafted bracelet made by a brown eyed woman his brown eyed woman<br /><br />She had him she knew she did, caught another one<br />“Yes” she muttered as she bent over her beads waving a feather, not just any feather a special feather a spell binding feather that would cause any man or woman who held the tiny beads fashioned into many different things do anything she wished, loose a bet, fall in love even stand in line for her<br />With her magic spell binding words and her tiny beads her power grew, no one could break her spell she had strengths and she knew it<br />“Now too get him to do something, this will be fun” she laughed, not a cackling laugh of a witch but a soft babbling laugh she wasn’t a witch just a woman a woman with the same powers as any other woman a woman from the Back of Beyond that is, all the women on the planet BoB could do these things, the earthlings never even realized that they where chatting too someone offworld that concept never even crossed their minds they thought they where alone in the galaxy and the internet was only www not as she knew gww<br />What can I make this man do she thought maybe dress like a woman or act like a clown, yes that’s it act like a clown, he will look funny with a red shiny nose and big shoes<br />So she set about with her spell, first offering him a bet that he couldn’t refuse, the wager if he lost he would dress like a clown, if she lost she would come and bee in his arms forever knowing he would loose of course the men always lost too her, it was so much fun getting them too do anything she wished<br /><br />The man dressed as a clown, his heart broken forever trailed sadly through the city and the country streets searching for his lost love, she had never told him exactly where she lived and when her online icon didn’t light up anymore he set out searching for her<br />His big shoes now worn, his ruffles dirty and makeup smudged the man pursued and hunted for his brown-eyed woman but never found her<br />Clutching the one thing that reminded him of his brown-eyed woman, the bracelet made of tiny beads the man wandered aimlessly searching, hunting, seeking her for the rest of his short life</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-88756576918864624412007-02-04T21:57:00.000+11:002007-02-04T22:15:14.491+11:00Why??<span style="font-size:130%;">Pissed off is not the word plain old angry is more like it, saddened and sick at the same time and you know why </span><a href="http://360.yahoo.com/profile-VuzIKSk8er.QK0ou3paAdng-?cq=1"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff33;">this</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />That’s why I was like wtf dammit<br />So angry can’t hardly type tears are stinging my eyes<br />A beautiful person one of the ones who shine right out at you, you just can’t help but love them so much and some horrible nasty cruel person has upset them so much that they do that<br /><br />It just makes my skin crawl inside I could punch the person in the mouth who’s done this .. right on the mouth I don’t care<br />It really is so unfair<br />You bitch person thingy horror story of a nasty disgusting person how dare you do this too her and too me what you think you only upset her well you didn’t you upset a whole lot of people including me HOW DARE YOU DO THAT!<br />I happen too love that woman thank you very much love her for her wit her charm and her strengths all of them, the way she writes the way she is!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">If I was standing in front of you now I would be poking you in the chest with my finger HARD poke, poke and flipping poke and asking you why the hell did you do this WHY?? </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6749199538758826352.post-91741032730074600542007-01-31T10:46:00.000+11:002007-01-31T10:58:20.667+11:00Touched<a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/141/329992391_e14e42df47.jpg?v=0"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/141/329992391_e14e42df47.jpg?v=0" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Her finger tips slid down the soft skin of her lovers back, tenderly caressing the skin, moving slowly down lightly touching the fine hairs sending shivers up her spine, both hands moving slowly touching stroking down across the shoulder blades down too the middle of the back, out slowly too the waist and the very ticklish spot just above the hips, delicately touching so as not too wake her lover up, down further down too the soft smooth tender rump, following the creases on the tops of the legs just lightly skimming over the soft downy hair and gently so gently with a light lovers touch slowly back up again too the base of the neck gently moving the hair out of the way to trace round her lovers ear with a fingertip<br />Oh how she loved too do that, her lover sleeping stirring only slightly, never knowing how tenderly she touched them how wonderful it felt the soft smooth skin softer than any chamois, warm and silky at the same time<br /><br /><br />And as she drifted off too sleep herself she dreamed of her lover’s hands gently caressing her skin too<br /><br /><br /></span><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Those are my hands </span></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><p><a href="http://www.feedburner.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.feedburner.com/fb/images/pub/powered_by_fb.gif" alt="Powered by FeedBurner" style="border:0"/></a></p></div>Missy Ahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00837378208314586720noreply@blogger.com2