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Tools of the trade
No one came for me.
We only got married so the police would leave us alone.
I hadn't seen that face in years, but as soon as he walked by me I knew it was him and that he was plotting something.
The lake was so calm.
It wasn't there anymore.
It was time to kill again.
Word of the Day 2.0: Depone
After that day, nothing was ever the same.
Would it be like this forever?
The fact that I'm not dead is sort of puzzling to me.
The minutes weren't going by fast enough.
Could she be any slower?
My skin was green.
Soon I will be married.
Were my parents who they said they were?
I can't get inside his head.
How can I go now?
Go away!
I burned it all.
They finally found me, but I couldn't let them find him, too.
Would I ever be good enough for her?
I was the only one out of my friends that got into the club.
Am I dead?
Sunlight streamed through the window.
This is a one-night stand.
I volunteer at my son and daughter-in-law's farm.
I forgot the keys to your heart.
The house was on fire last night.
Have you ever met that one person who was unlike every other person you've met before?
Starting over is different than trying again.
There may be no more.
Not if I can help it.
The chest was too big and heavy to lift.
In the end, you helped me after all.
When are you going to forgive me?
He never could understand what she saw in him.
This was a tough decision.
My phone was dead.
All of the flowers in the house were dead.
I can't wait!
It was definitely sweater weather outside.
He lay awake all night.
The mob was moving steadily closer to where they hid.
The cancer was back.
Please, just listen.
If he left, she would lose everything.
Writing was the only thing I was good at.
Close the curtains.
On the desk was an envelope that had definitely not been there before.
Don't kid yourself.
His clothes lay in a heap on the floor.
Do you want to talk about it?
You'll be safe here.
What happened?
Tell me a secret.
His bedside table was stacked high with books and week-old dirty dishes.
Classic Rock Will Never Die
crying-over-really-dumb-things:coyotegirl-writer-s-block:coyotegirl-writer-s-block:micro-usb:gotta Google something ok yeah this is funny Watching my 60 year old uptight southern white teacher brace herself to say it to a room full of ninth graders is
dukeofbookingham: I AM COINING A NEW TERM: WRITER’S BLIP. IT’S LIKE WRITER’S BLOCK,BUT INSTEAD OF A FULL POWER OUTAGE, IT’S JUST A SHORT FIZZLE IN THE ELECTRICITY, LIKE BEING UNABLE TO FIND EXACTLY THE RIGHT WORD OR PHRASE THAT YOU NEED. WRITER’S
