I been running all my life. But only just broke in my sneakers. Taking on challenges, Yet fleeing from chaos. Protecting my peace, Yet weakening my resilience. Am I retreating before the storm hits? Or […]
Category: Imagination
In Love on a Layover: a travel romance novella
This is my first novella. I will be publishing each chapter, as its written, online. Please download for free and enjoy. CHAPTER ONE (posted on 11May) Chapter Two (TBA) Thanks for joining me 🙂
To Be ___________ in America
I bet you like that flag, Blue-blooded lover of a guns, Oh how beautifully, it waves for you. Should I keep running this race while tied to a tree? Seeing my peers pass me up never acknowledging their head start. So focused on their privilege, I forgot whats special about me.
To My Future Husband, Wherever You Are
“To My Future Husband, Wherever You Are, I Know Who You Are Because God has shown me who I am. You are the only one who can handle…..” [click link to continue]
WanderLust (or Love), a Curly-American Walks into a Spaniard Bar… (Segunda Parte)
“Another round?” Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. ”Guapa. You are having fun?” Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. “Yes! And I’m going dancing with you tonight!” His eyes widened as he smiled. “Bryan me invita!” I explained in my broken Spanish.
Am I Addicted to Love?
I have to be because I have sought after it since I was a young girl. Before I was a woman. Before I had my first
A Love Letter Lost in Chicago
Today, while walking around Chicago, on my way to the blue line, I saw a letter tumbling in the wind. It didnt take long to figure out that it was a love letter and a
WanderLust (or Love), in Bar, in early Fall, in Midtown Atlanta
We were seated in a bustling bar in midtown Atlanta only a couple hours after my flight landed. Publik, it was called. Somehow we lucked up with the only two cushy armchairs cattacornered with a view of the entire quaint space. We'd met many times before, often ending up somewhere to talk, away from our industry
WanderLust (or Love), a Curly-American Walks into a Spaniard Bar… (Primera Parte)
After a long day’s journey through the sites of Mardrid, the sun was low in the sky as I stumbled upon Mercado de San Miguel. My eyes feasted on the crystal clear glass structure being […]
