Luke called back home the morning after the reunification of the Saturday Morning Bike Club. Waiting any longer to talk with his family was out of the question. The call would have come as soon as the friendship rekindled but he was sucked up in the moment. By the time the moment quit dragging him by his hand the time was already 9:00. That is way too late to call back to Pittsburgh.

I, Georgia, who was born George, am doubtless like all others of my age. I have no problems with anachronisms and old word forms and grammar, but I find difficulty understanding modern speech forms, which I can’t help but regard as illiteracy. I accept that language changes with time, but I don’t like it, and I think poorly of those who use what I can not help but regard as stupidity. So, I’m no different from what older persons have ever been.

yes after a long break to deal with health and other things i am back writing as of today. My style may of changed a bit and i hope you like it

A Different Angel,

A story by Allie Elle,

Synopsis: A young teen finds themselves and a purpose in a rather unusual way.

Chapter one: perceptions.

Meagan yawned and snuggled closer to her pillow. It was big and warm. There was a pleasant scent that she couldn’t quite place. And it seemed to be moving? She opened her eyes and stared at her pillow. Only, it wasn’t a pillow. It was a breast. Bigger than her head. She looked up into the owner’s amber oval eyes.

“Could you please stop doing that,” the owner asked. “They’re sensitive.”