Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 60.1: Fin

Welp, it's happened. I have officially run out of past writings that I can easily get onto my blog. Everything else I have written is either already on MCB, or it's something I would like to publish or present elsewhere in the future.

I hope that you, my handful of readers, have enjoyed the journey back in time in terms of my writing. Now, I will have to think of a new Friday segment, and of course, I will be requesting feedback on such wherever and whenever I can.

Thank you for your reading. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to ask my fiancée just what the Hell she's planning to do with my hair, which she is, as of now, playing with.

...It's a ponytail. She made a tiny ponytail. I bet it looks totally bizarre.

My fiancée, on the other hand, says it makes me look somewhat like Shippo from Inuyasha.

 I just...I don't even.

Until later tonight, friends.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Today's OneWord: Madman

Here we have the madman, standing at the podium. He screams threats and obscenities, and the meager audience cheers. They wear red hats and stamp their feet and gesture to the wind, taunting the spirits and daring them to change the course of time, to change the course of history, which never, ever ends. The madman is strutting. He's grinning at his prize. In perhaps a year, the world will change - the colors will all dim.
Read more

Today's OneWord: Statues

Why were the statues going white, and why was the rain cascading in sheets? I tried to find solace by the window, but the world outside had become nothing but glass. Blankets of water blurred the semblance of life that I stretched my mind to detect. Near me, my lover was asleep on the divan with wine pooling across her lap. Her curls lay in wet swaths around the warm nape of her neck. The statues would crumble in due time. The deluge was impending. We both would drown.
Read more

Today's OneWord: Conflict

I thought I had been properly trained for this. I thought that all the years I spent as a conflict mediator would pay off. I thought I had the experience and mental capacity to handle this particular quarrel. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. I knew I was wrong as soon as I entered the room. The people facing off: Two older women, both with very gray hair. Both short, frumpy, wearing pinks and purples. And they were wielding switchblades.
Read more