Hiya, Welcome back to PEP! Last week ended up being a week off from everything, including my baking, the only exception being the blog post last Monday. As such, I don’t have a new recipe to share about. However, I’ve got plans this week for something new and will let ya’ll know next week how it turns out. It’ll be my first attempt at this difficulty level so we’ll see.
This week’s Question: What is your dream job?
My answer: My dream job is a published author. I want to be able to spend all day writing and live off of what I make. Even if my books only reach a few people, I’d consider myself successful. I have several novels in first draft status and am currently editing the first for the third, and hopefully final, draft so I can submit it for publishing. Even if it’s not successful the first time, I’m going to keep trying. I refuse to give up until I make it. I’ve got several ideas that I wouldn’t mind implementing as careers but not only do they definitely need money to do so but writing is my long-time dream. What are some of ya’lls dream jobs?
This week’s writing:
I see you every day but I haven’t Looked at you in months. Perhaps even longer than that. I realize my mistake now, now that it’s nearly too late. We nearly lost you and it’s our own damn faults. But see if anyone will admit that though? No, they’d rather blame you for trying to escape the hell we put you through. I don’t. I refuse to blame you for trying to escape the hell your parents put you through that the rest of us all missed. I saw you every day at school but so caught up with my friends, I’d missed you slowly withdrawing into yourself more and more until you might as well not be there. That is, except when the school bullies were taunting you. I saw them but I didn’t see them. I didn’t see your enthusiasm for school wane, I didn’t see your love for art, English, colors disappear. I missed the way you stopped wearing whatever you wanted, regardless of what others thought and start wearing sweats and hoodies in an attempt to disappear. Not that it worked. I never liked Brian and his friends anyway but was safe from them as a member of the baseball team. As a punk, band-playing, outcast, you were a target, a sitting duck really. As I’ve learned recently, one of their favorite targets. You’ve been on your own for way too long.
I swear that will change. We’ll be friends again, I won’t leave you again. That is, once you wake up, Z. It’s been a month, the docs say you should wake up any time and I’m not leaving until you do. I failed you once, it won’t happen again. © Paula Crofoot
This week’s music as I’m posting this: Selma Drye by Kellie Pickler from The Woman I Am
Hiya! Welcome back to PEP! For all of my fellow Americans-
We will Remember 9/11! 9-11-01, hard to believe it’s been 16 years. I was fortunate enough to not personally lose anyone but I still remember those the country lost both in the actual attacks and rescues made afterwards.
Last week’s baking turned out well. I ended up baking old fashioned spicy ginger cookies, posted on my Instagram, and mocha brownies-those I didn’t post. Both turned out really well. I’m not sure what I’ll bake this week but I’ll be sure to update next week.
This week’s question: The words I’d like to live by are…?
My answer: I actually have a few different sayings I try to live by. 1. Don’t fear the storms, dance in the rain. 2. Go big or go home. 3. March to the beat of your own drum. 4. Live to live, not to survive. Basically, I try to live as I desire, do it to the best of my ability, to not be afraid to try new things and live, not just survive day to day. Now, I’m human so I’ll admit that I’m not perfect, I don’t always live by my mottos though each day, I’m getting better about it. I know that as I got older, I started retreating a bit as adulthood hit but I’m working on being better about that.
This week’s writing:
Colt struggled to stay awake during Algebra 1. This was such a boring class. His best friend, Eric, sat in front of him, equally bored out of his mind, while the two nerds beside the two of them cheerfully took notes. They’d sat next to each other until their teach decided they were distracting each other too much and switched Eric with one of the math geeks in front of them.
Just before Colt resorted to throwing paper balls at Eric, the window next to him providing no entertainment due to the cloudy day, the lights went out.
Colt winced as the girl next to him shrieked in shock before the lights jolted back on. Colt frowned, the lights had only been out for like, maybe 5 seconds. What the hell? He glanced at the window to see if the weather was maybe the reason and blinked when he saw a sticky-note he knew for a fact was not there before. It had one word, RUN!
He glanced around, seeing nothing to run from, and kicked Eric’s chair. Eric turned, raising a black eyebrow and Colt tilted his head to the window. He saw the moment Eric read the note cross his face as both eyebrows raised. He shrugged in answer to Eric’s unspoken question. Just then, explosions lit up the back of the building and Colt jolted out of his seat, grabbing Eric’s arm and pulling them both out of the classroom before anyone had a chance to react.
“Shit, fire, man!”
Colt saw the back halls lit up on fire but didn’t otherwise react to Eric’s words, still pulling him along to the stairs in the front of the school building.
They were thankful to the bizarre warning, even if the two didn’t know who it came from. Thanks to the warning, they were able to react faster and avoid the ensuing stampede and getting stuck in the building and burned alive.
As they stood outside of the building, watching it burn, they both tried to figure out what the hell was happening.
“I know what’s going on.”
They both turned at the soft whisper but there was no one there. © Paula Crofoot
This week’s music: as I’m posting this: Love by Sugarland: Love On The Inside
Hiya! Welcome back to PEP! Happy Labor Day to my fellow Americans! I don’t have any exact plans other than to do nothing. I didn’t get around to any baking last week, even the most orderly of plans can go awry. But I have plans for a recipe this week that I’ll post about on here next week; it’ll be my first attempt at something of this nature.
This week’s journaling question: The ways I’ve grown over the past 5 years is…
The primary thing that has changed over the last five years for me is I’m not as shy, or rather, my shyness doesn’t cripple me like it used to. I’m still just as shy as I was when I was a teenager, though if you ask my friends back then they’ll look at you like you’ve lost your mind. I’m fine around people I’ve known for at least a couple of months but new people, not so much. However, when I graduated college, the economy took a plunge and despite my degree, I couldn’t find a job so I ended up in retail as I had adult bills rolling in. Nothing wrong with retail, not at all, just not what I had intended to do when I headed to college. However, you get in trouble if you can’t make at least small talk with the people at your register as I had landed a cashier position with my previous experience from during college. As such, I’m now able to make eye contact and small talk with random people, though I still don’t do it regularly, and that’s something that’s changed in the last five years, a way I’ve grown. This isn’t the question but something I think I’ve lost over the last five years is a touch of my fearlessness. So much adult responsibility and burns from trusted people, has made me much more cautious in the leaps I take in various aspects of my life. That’s as far on that particular topic I think I’ll delve into today.
This week’s writing:
His blue eyes burned with intensity of hatred she hadn’t seen in years. It delighted and worried her at the same time. It made her curious as to just what he’s gone through to ignite that kind of anger and hatred. Though the anger was unseen, that kind of hatred cannot exist without anger hand in hand.
She cautiously approached the stranger, “New to this area?”
He glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the smart phone in his hand.
“What are you looking for, maybe I can help?”
This time the crystal blue eyes focused on her longer, sending a chill down her spine before he looked back at his phone.
Before she could ask again, he lifted his phone, screen facing her, “Seen him?”
She took a look at the phone, not daring to reach for it for a better look, and did indeed recognize the green eyed brunet.
“Yeah, though I don’t know his name. I’ve seen him around the bed and breakfast downtown as well as the old Murphy house out in the country. Small town, all strangers are noticed.”
He nodded once before leaving her, phone tucked once more in his pocket.
She watched him go, wondering if perhaps she should call the police before shaking her head, she didn’t want to become anymore involved in this than she already was. It clearly wasn’t good blood between the two. It could only mean danger for anyone caught in the crosshairs of whatever the green eyed stranger had done to the blue eyed stranger.
She was glad she hadn’t gotten involved when she saw the headlines of the small town newspaper the next morning. © Paula Crofoot
This week’s music: as I’m posting this: Scars to Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara (I mentioned my music tastes were eclectic and all over the board, didn’t I?)
Hiya! Welcome back to PEP. I survived Hurricane Harvey which tells you I’m in Texas, which I am proud to admit. Fortunately, where I am in Texas mostly got just some rain with more to come of course. I didn’t do any baking last week as I was out of eggs but I’ve gone shopping since so I’ll have a new recipe to talk about next week. I’m not entirely sure what it’ll be just yet.
This week’s journaling question: isn’t really a question. I kinda just pick these at random from the various places I’ve found them so this week’s is a list: 4 favorite desserts?
My top favorite dessert is cheesecake. It doesn’t really matter what flavor though I do tend to lean towards chocolate or strawberry but if I’m angry at you and you’re aiming for an olive branch, cheesecake might help you. My second dessert would probably have to be Texas sheet cake. It’s exactly what it says it is, a large, flat cake baked on a sheet pan, usually chocolate, it is delicious! Third would be fudge. I only really eat it at the holidays but every year, I have to make it even though I’m the only one I know that really eats it. Fourth, I’m going to have to choose fruit cobbler. If I have to choose a specific fruit, Peach cobbler, but really any fruit cobbler makes me happy. Those are my top four desserts, what are ya’lls?
This week’s writing:
I’ve always loved having the power to bring the dead back to life. I especially love standing over their graves and listening to them try to get out. If they’re someone I cared about while living, I’ll help them out by hiring a few idiots to dig the grave up, and then it’s simply a matter of pushing the coffin lid off on their end. But if I don’t know them and simply choose someone randomly, then why on earth would I go through all that effort. I’m really only waking them up to keep my gift active, to grow stronger, not because I actually wanted to bring them back.
But now you’ve found me and want me to bring a loved one back for you. I suppose I can do that but the price will be steep and you’ll need to make the arrangements for them to get out on your own. I don’t do that kind of dirty work.
It’s a deal, then? Alright, I’ll meet you at their grave in two days.
Good, you’re here right on time. Who’s this? Ah, the wife to be. Nice to meet you. No, no need for names, it’ll make it much too personal. Do you know why he’s brought you here? No? Well, this will be a shock for you then. No, you’ll see shortly.
She really doesn’t know why you two are here, does she? Well, I look forward to the look on her face then shortly. Good, you got the grave cleared out. Oh, you even went far enough to open the coffin for him. Good on you. Now, quiet. There aren’t any fancy movements or a specific spell for this but I do need silence.
Do you mind? It’ll all be made clear shortly but not if I can’t do my work. Thank you.
There, he’ll be climbing out shortly. I trust you’ve made the arrangements for this as he was legally declared dead. This isn’t on me if it turns out badly. I simply did as you requested. Of which, I trust you have my payment as I can easily reverse this. Good, good.
Now, the reason you’re here, ma’am. I presume you’ve realized by now what’s happening? You have, good, good. You’d be surprised at how blind people can be, on purpose even. Your fiance hired me to bring his best friend back to life after the car accident. Fortunately, from what my research showed, it was a fairly minor injury that killed him. If he’d gotten help, he wouldn’t have bled out and bringing him back, all injuries are immediately healed. With it being an internal injury, it won’t show in whatever identity you’ll be taking now. Oh, no, not you, miss. That’s why you’re here, actually. There’s a very specific balance to life and dead that must be kept. Most that I bring back don’t escape their graves so the balance is easily kept. However, he is climbing up now as we speak if you want to help him, man.
You’re beginning to realize why you’re here, aren’t you? Yes, yes, your fiance has chosen his best friend over you. You might have had a shot with him if you hadn’t been in that car and left him to die. Yes, he was a threat to your relationship but you could’ve made it work had you not gotten jealous and greedy. You’re feeling nauseous now, aren’t you? Light-headed, even. Blood loss will do that to you. Someone has to take his place and it’s been deemed that it will be you. Do enjoy the afterlife, dear. © Paula Crofoot
This week’s music: as I’m posting this: Feilim’s Little Boat Pbelims (Baidin Fbeidblimi) by Spailpin/Column MacOirea(Celtic music this week, and yes all of that was spelled correctly)
Hiya! Welcome back to PEP! I would’ve been on earlier except, as I’m sure ya’ll know, there was the Solar Eclipse in the United States so I was a bit occupied with that. I’m not anywhere that I could see the total eclipse but I watched it live on TV and I did see a partial where I live. Beyond that, I don’t have all that much to write about today. Last week’s baking experiment wound up being Snickerdoodles. They’re not International to me but it was the first time baking them, plus they’re foreign to someone. They turned out pretty well though I’ll be eating them for a while as the recipe made 5 dozen. Pics are on my Instagram and Twitter, linked below. I don’t think I’ll have anything this week as I ran out of eggs and haven’t been to the store.
This week’s question: What are you looking forward to the most?
My answer: currently short-term wise, I’m looking forward to the first of the year the most. I’ll be moving cities, not fully arranged yet, and, in a way, starting over. I think it’ll be really good and is what I need. I’m stuck in a rut right now that if I don’t do something could down-spiral in a heartbeat. I think moving cities and starting over will jumpstart in a few different ways.
This week’s writing:
“It’s sad what you can get used to, isn’t it?”
Rochelle jumped a foot, peering around, finally finding the source of the cryptic remark on the bench to her right.
“What are you talking about?”
She wasn’t entirely sure what prompted her to speak to the strange person. She couldn’t see their face through the blue hoodie, couldn’t even tell if it was a girl or guy she was speaking to.
“Just what I said. It’s sad what you can get used to, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude, just leave me alone.”
The hooded face turned to face her, though Rochelle still couldn’t make out any specific features.
“You’re here meeting someone, the only reason a young woman like yourself would be in a park this late. You’ve been here for a while, the other person obviously isn’t going to show, yet you’re not upset. You’re used to being disappointed. It’s almost a way of life for you now, isn’t it?”
“Who said I’m here to meet someone. Not everyone visiting a park has to see people.”
“True. But what other reason would you have to be in a park this late unless you were either meeting someone or perhaps you met with someone elsewhere before and it didn’t turn out well.”
“Not that it’s any of your business but neither option actually.”
The hooded face turned away once more, sitting there in silence now.
Rochelle couldn’t understand why she didn’t just walk away. There was nothing holding her here. But something about this person intrigued her and a fault of hers, though she wouldn’t admit it, was that she was stubborn until her curiosity was sated.
Finally, after a while of silence, Rochelle was getting ready to call it quits and move on when the hooded person stood first.
They turned to Rochelle and held out a hand, “Come. I’ll show you what you’re looking for.”
Eyes narrowed, heart open, curiosity overriding common sense, Rochelle took their hand.
3 years later… © Paula Crofoot
This week’s music as I’m posting this: Ladies Love Country Boys by Trace Adkins- Triple Play: Trace Adkins-EP (I did mention my taste in music was wide and varied, didn’t I?)
Hiya, Welcome back to PEP. Not too much to write about today. This post is later than usual as I had several errands to run this morning, including picking up my two cats from boarding. I currently have a 5 yr old polydactyl tortoiseshell named Lucy and a 5 yr old diluted tortoiseshell named Lily. For those that don’t know, polydactyl means Lucy has five toes on each paw instead of the ordinary four most animals have, another term is Hemingway cat. Lucy has the typical black and russet coat of a tortoiseshell and Lily is diluted in that she has the pattern but is gray and silver instead. Both are gorgeous kitties and were in for boarding this last weekend as a test for this November when I’ll be out of town on a cruise and don’t have any other arrangements for them. They did fantastic so I feel much more comfortable leaving them. You’ll hear a lot more about them as this blog goes on as I love animals, especially my own. I’d love to hear about any of ya’lls pets.
Lily is on the left, Lucy on the right.
Last week, I mentioned I was experimenting with some international baking and would be trying my hand at a British Cherry Cake. It went fairly well, you can see the pics on my Instagram and Twitter linked down below. It needs practice but so does most things in life that you are passionate about, even those you’re naturally talented at. I’ll be baking something else this week though I’m not sure what just yet. It won’t all be international, some will be American, though I suppose to many that would be international to them just as some of what I consider international isn’t to them. If you’ve tried your hand at some baking or even cooking, I’d love to hear about it!
This week’s journaling question: What is a mistake people often make about you?
My answer this time is pretty simple and on the surface only really. When I was younger, pre-teens, everyone always guessed that I was older than I actually look. However, once I hit 16, everyone started guessing I was younger than I actually am. No matter whom I ask, who guesses, they’re always at least two or more years lower. I am in fact in my late-20s but everyone always guesses 21-23. I don’t drink all that often but I can count on one hand the number of times I haven’t been carded. I don’t know how generic that phrase that is but it means asked for my ID to make sure I’m old enough. I can remember once when I was in a grocery store just a couple of years ago, and there was a table with samples of wine. The person I was with didn’t get asked for her ID but I was asked for mine before I could have this little bitty sample. I find it amusing and in most cases complimentary now but when I was younger it was pretty aggravating. But I know when I’m older I’m going to be really grateful for my luck with genes.
This week’s writing: “You’re right above ‘clown’ on my creepy scale.”
The young man clutched his chest as if she had gravely injured him with her words.
“I don’t know why! I haven’t done anything! Yet.”
“There’s the keyword, yet.”
He grinned nervously; she clearly wasn’t supposed to have heard that last word.
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
“But everyone else is up for grabs?”
The brunette man winced, he was fouling this up.
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied well enough. Leave.”
“Sure you can, the door’s right behind you, don’t let it hit you on your way out.”
“I really can’t.”
She raised a trim black eyebrow, “Oh?”
“You see those people out there?”
She glanced uninterestedly towards the window currently being fogged up with the breaths of the mass crowded against it.
“I head out there without protection; I’ll be mobbed and torn apart.”
“Okay. That’s a problem?”
He flinched; he’d really pissed her off this time.
“I know I fouled up.”
“It’s a bit difficult to mess up when you’re a complete stranger but I think you’ve actually managed it.”
He swallowed tightly, “I’m not a complete stranger.”
Her brown eyes narrowed and he didn’t like how they darkened, he was used to seeing that look on her face towards other people, not himself.
“What do you mean; I’d remember someone like you.”
He wasn’t sure if she meant that in a good way or not, “Do you remember three years ago?”
She scowled, it was well-known amongst her circle of friends, that she had lost a year of memory three years ago after a harsh car accident, but she’d kept it from the public beyond the direct aftermath.
“What’s it to you?”
“That’s a no, then. Before that car accident, you knew me. We knew each other really well, actually.”
A spark lit in her eyes and he hoped perhaps she remembered him.
“You’re the mystery boyfriend everyone refuses to talk about.”
“Something about you vanishing after the accident and never returning and the wreck was your fault.”
“I didn’t disappear out of my own will and the wreck was most definitely not my fault. Something that bad can’t be one’s fault if they weren’t even in the country at the time.”
“I suppose you have a point. If I help you sneak out the back, will you fill in the blanks?”
“Happily. I’ve missed you, this is just the first time I’ve been able to find you and haven’t been blocked from you.”
“Let’s go.” © Paula Crofoot
Also, I’m obsessed with music, amongst many things, so starting with this week’s post, I’ll post what song was running on my iPod at the time of posting this week, putting it on shuffle each week. This week: Hey Angel-One Direction MITAM.
Hiya, Welcome back to PEP! This post is a little late as I spent this morning reorganizing the dining room in my house. That is something that I do well and actually enjoy-organization. I’ve already organized the kitchen, now the dining room is done. Next is either living room or, more than likely, my bathroom. The living room is fairly large with a lot of knick-knacks so I think I’ll leave it for last. Tomorrow I’ll likely do my next piece of baking. You can find the first, a Swiss Cake, on my Twitter and Instagram, links to which are on this blog. Tomorrow is the coolest day in this area, if you wanna call 89 cool, which in August in Texas, is a cool front. My next baking try is a Cherry Cake; it’s an English recipe so it’ll be an interesting experiment. One last thing before this week’s question, anyone watch Sharknado 5: Global Swarming last night? I did and I would love to talk to anyone else who did as I’m the only one I know that enjoy that type of movies.
This week’s question: What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done?
My answer: To date, I’m going to have to say climbing Dunn’s waterfall in Jamaica is the craziest, most outrageous thing I’ve ever done. It wasn’t easy, you start at the bottom of a multi-level waterfall and climb up, in the middle of, the waterfall until you reach the top. There are points you can step out if you can’t do it. But I Did It! I made it all the way to the top and I will be the first to admit that while I’m not in bad shape, I’m not exactly iron-man material either, with a bad knee no less. Granted, I’m in my 20s so I’m fairly young, which was in my favor. What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done?
Writing for this week: The young woman jolted awake, unsure of what had woken her from a deep sleep. She peered around, shoving her thick black hair out of her face. She slowly sat up, deep frown on her face. She couldn’t see or hear anything that should’ve jolted her awake so suddenly. She sat up straight as she realized just what it was. It was dead silent in the house. It should not be nearly this quiet. At all times, she had a fan going in her room alone, much less she should be able to hear the toenails of Max on the hardwood floor headed to her room. She could never wake up without him joining her shortly after. She started to call out to Max, this silence oppressive and unsettling. She stopped herself just in time, it couldn’t possibly be safe to make too much noise right now. She quietly slipped out of bed, throwing her light robe over her pjs and tiptoeing out of her room. She carefully stepped down into the sunken living room as it was pitch black, freezing immediately upon stepping into something slimy. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face so she had no idea what she had just stepped in. She backtracked and silently shut the door to her bedroom, hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing. She fumbled for her flashlight, freezing to ensure no one had heard her. Sitting on her bed, she flipped the switch and just barely muffled her scream at the red blood covering the bottom of her foot. At the sudden sound in the hallway, she dropped off her bed, scuttling into the closet, keeping as quiet as possible. The door creaked open and she heard heavy footsteps slowly stepped into the room. Dropping the flashlight into her lap, she pressed both hands over her mouth, praying whoever this was wouldn’t hear her breathing. It was fruitless and the closet door slowly slid open. She peered up, hoping that maybe she couldn’t be seen in the dark, but in the back of her mind, she knew if she could see this giant of a man, he could see her. The last thing Brooke saw were glinting green eyes and a wide, mad smile, full of gleaming teeth. © Paula Crofoot
Hiya, Welcome Back! This is my third week! It’s going pretty well, I think anyway. I don’t have all that much to say today, a lot on my mind that I’m keeping within my mind for the moment so let’s jump to this week’s question. (On a side note: being July 31st, Happy Birthday, Harry Potter! Yes, I’m a geek.)
What is your Dream Job?
My dream job is that of a published author. I want to write novels that are published and sell well enough to make a living. I don’t have to be the next top best-selling author, though that’d be nice if attainable. But truly, if I can reach just one person and give them another world to sink into, just for a little while, or let them know they’re not alone with whatever they’re struggling with, then I’ve done my job, I’ve met my goal.
For this week’s writing:
I sighed as I gazed around the large party once more. This really wasn’t my scene but it was my charge’s so I put up with it to ensure Mac’s safety.
But as I turned my gaze to my left, I noticed a young brunette woman staring in my direction. It wasn’t the leather jacket or the dark eyes that sent a chill down my spine. It was the spine. It was the sly smile that crept onto her face when she looked in my direction. No one was supposed to be able to see me. It was the only way I was able to do my job as well as I did.
I attempted to ignore her gaze, if I didn’t acknowledge her, she’d come to accept I was a figment of her imagination, right?
It appeared to work as she never approached me throughout the night, though I could feel her gaze on me more than once. But as I was following Mac out, knowing I had my work cut out for me for the rest of the night as he was clearly far too inebriated to look out for himself, she reappeared. This time, she looked directly at me and opened her mouth. I quickly cut her off, stepping out the door, close behind Mac. I knew no one else would be able to see me, making her look insane if she’d attempted to speak to me there. Plus I was still hoping that once she’d slept off the alcohol, she’d see me as a hallucination. But it did no good. Instead, she inserted herself into Mac’s group of friends, easily catching a ride with them to the next stop on this party train.
Early the next morning, far too early for anyone as drunk as she’d appeared to be the night before, she reappeared next to me. This time, we were alone and she didn’t allow me to disappear or cut her off, “What are you?”
I didn’t respond and her eyes narrowed, “I know you’re there in front of me. I also know that apparently no one else can see you except me. So again, what are you?”
This time I answered in order to prevent her from making a scene, “I’m a Guardian.”
“A Guardian Angel?”
I snorted, “Hell no. I’m a Guardian. Guardian Angels are the ones with wings and most see themselves as holier than thou. I’m simply a Guardian. I guard the lives of those that are a part of another realm.”
“Another Realm? Mac, seriously?”
“It’s kind of hidden on purpose, toots.”
“Don’t call me toots, and don’t patronize me. What is this realm and why do people from it need protecting.”
“Can’t tell you any more without you being a member of the Realm. I don’t know why you can see me but clearly it’ll need to be corrected.”
Her dark brown eyes narrowed once more, “What do you mean corrected?”
I remained silent and just then, Mac entered.
She turned to him, “What’s this about you being from another Realm.”
Mac froze before putting the puzzle pieces together, his kind always absorbing the alcohol ridiculously fast and as such, his fast mind completely unhindered by it.
“Why can you see Harry?”
“That’s his name? He wouldn’t tell me anything more than that he’s a Guardian, they’re not like Guardian Angels and that they guard those from another Realm.”
“That’s cuz it’s illegal for anyone from this Realm to know about our Realm.”
“He also said the fact I can see him would be corrected.”
“Duh. Can’t have you endangering us.”
“What do you mean, endangering? It’s not like I’m going to go off half-cocked and tell anyone about all of this.”
“Sorry, Soph, can’t just take your word for it.” © Paula Crofoot
Hiya! Welcome back to PEP. For the moment, I’ll just be posting weekly while I sort out what exactly I am doing. I’ve never blogged before, really, so this is all new to me. Some days I’ll have a lot to say and other days, I’ll be using jump-off points as I’ll still want to blog but nothing will have happened that I want to write about. Today is one of the latter days. Because I’m me and I either go big or go home, I’m going deep on this first one.
How easy is it for you to forgive those who have caused you pain?
My answer is honestly a bit of a mixed bag on this one. It really depends on what kind of pain they’ve caused me. If they’ve hurt me in a way that I see as betrayal or back-stabbing, then it can actually take a very, very long time for me to forgive them, if I forgive them at all. If they’ve just hurt my feelings or something else relatively minor, then I’ll likely forgive them within a week or two. However, though I forgive, I do have a long memory. I remember any time someone hurts me and it simply changes my trust level with them. Though honestly, I will be first to admit I struggle with trust issues. One thing though, if someone hurts someone I love, I will never forgive them. As I said, I struggle trusting others so if I do care for someone and they are hurt, I will never forgive the person that hurt them.
For this week’s question: How easy or hard is it for ya’ll to make friends?
For this week’s writing: Remember, completely unedited beyond minimum grammar.
“But I saw you die. How are you still alive?”
“What?! You’re standing right in front of me! That qualifies as alive to me!”
“I’m standing in front of you. But I’m not alive. I’m not breathing, my heart no longer beats.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Louis stepped forward and gently took Gwen’s much smaller hand in one of his. He pressed it against his chest, amazed at just how much smaller than his it was. How had he never noticed before? He felt her hand tremble as she realized that there was truly no heartbeat nor was his chest moving in the familiar rhythm of breathing.
“I’m not entirely sure myself, love. But I remember waking up in the hospital morgue with all of the other dead bodies. It was quite the fight to get out of the small freezer, I’ll tell you that much. I didn’t know where else to go so I came here, to you. Along the way, I discovered that I had in fact died, which was my last memory before waking up. I don’t know how I’m here or why this happened.”
Gwen stepped forward, taking both of Louis’ larger hands in her’s, “We’ll figure it out together. I won’t leave you alone, Louis.” © Paula Crofoot
Welcome to PEP: Paula’s Eclectic Paradise. This will be my landing pad for various little things. You’ll find stuff from pieces of my writing, more than likely unedited-raw-drafts, pictures and information about my pieces I sell from my shop, Imaginative HandiCrafts, pictures I find interesting, posts on topics I find interesting, little blurbs from my personal life such as hobbies, music I enjoy or the latest book I’ve read. There are two rules of this Haven. One is an Author’s note: Everything here is covered under copyright law. That means if you take something of mine, I can pursue my legal rights as everything here is my copyrightable literary works. Another rule of this Haven is NO bullying, for any reason, or politics. When I say no politics, I mean I will not be posting anything about anything to do with politicians, their families or anything more than perhaps a big law change that will affect hundreds of people. I am in the United States of America so you can imagine why I’m distancing this piece of paradise from that topic. I realize I cannot stop others from posting about politics in comments but I will not reply nor will I allow a political battle begin here. I will also not tolerate bullying on here, in any of my own posts or in any comments to any of my posts. There is enough bullying in both real life and cyber without adding anymore here. I am happy to take any topic suggestions to dedicate a post to, provided I actually know something about it or am interested enough to do some research. Don’t feel afraid to offer an idea, no matter how bizarre, this place is called eclectic for a reason.
Here’s a question for ya’ll, my reader,: If I see answers by my next post, I’ll give my own answer, please don’t be afraid, I want to hear from ya’ll: What fictional place would you most like to go?
Here is one of my latest pieces, completely unedited:
It was an unlikely couple that ran away together. Many hadn’t even realized the young woman and young man knew each other, much less were romantically involved. However, what they also didn’t know was that they weren’t a couple. They were each other’s escape from a life of hell for him and a life of tediousness for her. They’d met a few years before, freshman year of high school but kept their friendship a secret as she was a cheerleader and he was a punk outcast. They saw so much more within each other though and were fast friends after that one detention. It was widely known that cheerleaders couldn’t be friends with punk outcasts and vice versa. They both knew the effect it would have on the school if it had been found they were friends, and not a good effect. Finally, they’d reached the end of their rope and they’d earned their diplomas. The only thing they were waiting for was graduation and they’d both agreed walking the stage was unnecessary. As such, he packed up his backpack and duffel bag, containing everything he owned, ducked out on his aunt and uncle and met her at the park. She was carrying a touch more with a small suitcase on wheels in addition to a backpack and duffel bag. But she also had the wheels, for the moment. They knew they wouldn’t get far in her convertible as they would be looking for it. But their plan was to sell the car at the next big city, take the train out of state and buy another car then, preferably a jeep that would be able to go off road and from there; they didn’t really have a plan. But she’d taken all the money out of her trust fund that she could access over the last three years in preparation for this day and they knew they’d be set for a little while. Long enough to get themselves together and on their feet anyway. It was the last anyone heard of Alyssa Brown and Cody Longsome for 10 years.© Paula Crofoot
An image I found on the web that caught my attention: Comment if you see it?
Feline humor, news and stories about the ongoing adventures of Buddy the Cat.
No matter how Dark it is; There is always a Rainbow to be found.
The Furred & Frond Management in charge of RJ Blain
Original and thoughtful food gifts you can make.
From critter antics to farm chores to domestic bliss, musings from our farmtastic life to yours.
By Miri Elm
Blowing the doors off traditional publishing.
Food Photography & Recipes
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes