CW: Arielle

Simon entered the train station with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a hand-made sign in the other. In red, big, bold letters, the text spelled out a female name. Arielle. He looked up at the clock above the tunnel leading down to platform number four and then down at his wrist watch. The first one had just struck 4 o’clock while the latter was two minutes ahead.

Break

I was halfway through writing the final part of "The Search" this morning when my life decided to fall apart. I will be away from blogging for an unspecified period of time. I might pop in here and there if I have some time, connection, and need a way to escape, but any routine posts... Continue Reading →

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Exploring Tales and the Art of Telling

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