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my friend friday My friend Friday spends Tuesday afternoons looking for things that no one else can find. These things are small and blend with the everyday so suitably, that they elude most of us, even after our morning coffee or cigarette. But invariably Friday finds them with ease, and sets them upon my doorstep every Wednesday morning, pawing at my breakfast with his fresh wonders. “I saw a boy die yesterday!” He howls, the door slamming behind him. He is not in the same room as I; he is yelling this across my house at 5:30am, eliciting angry grumbles from my somber roommates. Sending the salmy friend friday
by ~jimboistic
Magnolia1 My books are strewn across your bedroom floor when you’re trying to work. The creases of your brow tell me to act my age, but I was never good at mathematics. I sit cross-legged at the foot of your bed with the heavy satin doona wrapped around me, scouring Encyclopaedia Britannica for the answer to the riddle in my dreams. Spring sits next to me, flicking her tail menacingly and pawing at the pages as they turn. SMagnolia
Spring
spriNG • n. 1. the season after winter and before summer, in which vegetation begins to appear, in the northern hemisphere from March to May an
by ~alice-ophelia
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"Making the world a better place, one delusion at a time."
ProsePlease-WordCount-fotoFriday
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"Making the world a better place, one delusion at a time."
ProsePlease-WordCount-fotoFriday
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