Linda Lou_Who said Twitter is not useful- this story will prove you it does_More than a woman._Stran
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Linda Lou
Linda Lou By Karen Lankford-Carnes “Good morning, Ladies, it’s my turn to talk about a Godly woman that you have known. I wrote the whole story so I wouldn’t start crying. I think I might anyway. Grab some coffee and carbs and let’s settle in.I hope you enjoy this.” ~ If you’ve ever known someone who was so optimistic about everything. Optimistic ad nauseum, then I’ll see you and raise you my cousin Linda Lou. That was her honest to God, legal, given name. Her brother? Donnie Lee. I guess it’s a southern thing. Sure I like to see people happy, but Linda’s pollyannaish demeanor wasn’t just anno...
Who said Twitter is not useful- this story will prove you it does
Finding friends in the most unexpected places. It all started with a simple tweet. It’s amazing to know how much technology makes people far away from each other, get closer by just a hit of a button. Common tastes and common ideals helped us to realized that all for one purpose could keep spirits high. Keep mental health in the right path, make everyone happy and over all spread. Love, no hate, was a must. A simple answered tweet that made other tweeter engaged into the thread, quickly started to join many other Twitters from all over the world. The tweet; inviting people from many places in...
More than a woman.
MORE THAN A WOMAN.She is not the kind of lady you get to meet at your favorite drinking joint. I mean she can take a few tots, ain't no saint, but you know the introverted type preferring "domestication. I met her through a mutual friend. And my first impression? Young, beautiful and a killer smile.Hearty laughs tooShe was bold, way towww.onedoor.cco bold for such an age. A few can speculate her to be shy but its part of her reservation, before she gets to know someone.The kinda girl you could argue politics with and one who could banter you through football trolls.A well conversed and articulatily read dea...
Stranger
Sharon stopped washing the dishes, a plate held in one hand, a sponge in the other. The man was back, walking down the middle of the street. There was no traffic on the quiet suburban road, but she felt herself flush. She could see him clear as day through the window over the sink. She put the plate down and turned off the water hissing into the sink.Her lips tightened. “What kind of person walks in the middle of the street? Day after day? As if decent people need to see someone get hit by a car in front of their house.”She fumed as she watched him meander past, seemingly indifferent to...