Michael's Treehouse_Bees? Bees._Magic coffee beans_Call Me Icarus and Let Me Fly
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Michael's Treehouse
Our summer holidays started today and my friends and I agreed to meet at Michael's Tree house to spend the afternoon telling horror stories and throwing slingshots at crows. The tree house was built by the five of us and Michael's father, who provided the materials and took care of the stairs and the roof. Basically, he took care of everything. But it doesn't really matter. When I got to Michael's house, the smell of Mrs. Carmichael's cupcakes made my belly growl. "You can take as many cupcakes as you want, Jonathan," said Mrs. Carmichael. I didn't think twice. I immediately grabbed three car...
Bees? Bees.
Dedicated to the Dungeons and Dragons group, including the warlock with her two sugar daddies (patrons), the monk whose godly parent is one of those sugar daddies, the barbarian who poked a zombie and had to amputate her own arm, and of course the dungeon master who has watched me pull off some of the worst nat 20s in Dungeons and Dragons history.***The coronation party had been going swell, if you asked the Paladin. His queen had ascended to the throne, and the gala that followed featured some of the finest music and dancing, as well as exquisite foods from all over the kingdom. The Paladin s...
Magic coffee beans
“Henry! . . . Wake up . . . Henry! . . . Wake up. Its morning, we need to go check.” Fresh dawn light, seized its opportunity and peeked in through a small gap in the zip. The sleep filled air inside the tent was an electric blue, as warm sunshine forced itself through the navy canvas. Outside, birds were in the final throws of another rendition of their classic, Dawn chorus. One by one, taking to the wing in search of breakfast. Bumble bees and butterflies, elegantly shared a morning dip in richly coloured, heavenly scented flower beds. June, once again without even trying, had effortlessly ...
Call Me Icarus and Let Me Fly
Warning: Mention of torture ***His cell is at the top of the tallest tower. The single window provides him with a full view of the stars. Up there, he isn’t the hero the public once declared him. He isn’t anyone, in fact. When people come to deliver food, when the princess comes to beg him for answers in regards to why he murdered her father, and even when knights come to threaten the worst punishments they can imagine, he sits and stares out that single window. The bars are rusty, and it would only take one shove to dislodge them, but there’s nowhere to go but down, and he’s assumed to be to...