Mamma Mia Here We Go Again_I'm not afraid anymore._Tangled up in red_The Untold Story
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Mamma Mia Here We Go Again
Mamma Mía Here We Go Again There's a persistent knock at my door. I should characterize it as more of a pounding than a knock. It's 2:19 a.m. and I don't have to guess who would be so rude, so impatient as to disrupt and disturb me at this hour. I'm sure of the identity of the intruder and he must be off his meds. I open the door without asking the person outside to identify himself."Oh good Bigotes you are awake. I hope I'm not interrupting anything? Listen, I need your help to get revenge on the Jamaicans that ripped me off last month. I know where...
I'm not afraid anymore.
“Are you coming tonight?” They holler from the bathroom, undoubtedly doing their makeup for tonight’s affair. Beforwww.onedoor.cce I say no, I prepare for the verbal beatdown, telling me I’m wasting my life, I should meet new people, get out more and enjoy new things. I am about to shout my answer back at them when I hear their loud footsteps, which goes great with their personality, down the hallway and towards me, who is sat peacefully in the loungeroom with a tea and my watercolors. “And don’t you dare say no.” They place their hand on their hip and give me the death glare. Geez, I wish I was as confiden...
Tangled up in red
Emma ran around in the field of dandelions, her blue frock flowing along with the wind, and her light brown hair that were tied up with a scrunchie that was threatening to fall off, were swinging too and fro, and the little strands of hair that managed to evade their prison that is a ponytail, were falling into her grey eyes, resembling that of a salmon belly. Her laugh, as melodious as honey, that could make the nightingale sound off key, gently waltzed across the field as it reached my ears, making me smile. I was only 14, Emma being a year younger, and neither of us had anything; no family,...
The Untold Story
It was early January, the day after my seventieth birthday in fact, when the call came. Robby announced himself on the other end of the phone and I struggled to remember who he was. He must have heard the uncertainty in my voice and said,“You know, it’s me, Robby - Gordon’s friend, from Brisbane.”“Yes, of course. How are you?” I replied, trying to sound convincing.“I’m afraid I have some bad news; Gordon passed away this morning.” Silence.Gordon, a mutual friend, had recently suffered a stroke and had been hospitalised for several weeks. He’d become paralysed down his left side and was not mak...