Here is the first story from my book that will hopefully be published soon. I am still translating some stories and it isn't quite finished yet. It contains 9 stories that are connected only by the narrator who is a Goddess. The Goddess Lela is talking about her experiences with humans, and each story is one of those encounters. She is a different person in each story, sometimes she is a cleaning lady and sometimes a doctor, a divine passenger through our lives that we forget as soon as she leaves. Divine presence is not here to be superior to humans and to command the characters what to do and how. She is a wise advice giver and her purpose is to gently push the main protagonists in the right direction. That "rightness" is seen from their eyes, not hers. While developing her through the stories, I had a lot of fun with assigning her with a mix of God-like attributes and the human ones. I was greatly influenced by Greek and Nordic mythology where Gods were seen with virtues as well as with flaws. She changes her appearance in every story and her true figure is never seen. She is the shape-shifting narrator. As I said, this is the first story from the book, I hope you enjoy it. Your comments, reviews and inputs are very much appreciated.
TWO N
__________Her feet were getting stuck in the rootage while she was walking through the woods. The half-moon was gently shining from the sky so the leaves were able to show her all their green shades as they rustled in the wind. You couldn't call this a thick forest although it was thick enough for a person to easily get lost in, but not her. She has been here so many times before that she became a part of it. She wasn't just another stranger passing by but a valid member of this wild community that accepted her. While walking and allowing herself to get intoxicated with her surroundings she could look and act as she pleased, not worrying what anybody else thinks because there wasn't anybody else, only her and a few nocturnal animals that didn't mind her presence. Marching on with her head down, with no care for the forest sounds that were surrounding her, she allowed her tears to soak the warm earth path. This was her safe haven, her place to go to whenever she felt depressed.
“From whom to seek help from, when you do not believe in anyone? To whom to pray to, when you do not trust the prayer?” she thought.
A shy smile came to her face, despite the tears, and a thought that her infidelity, that strange word atheism, has not been challenged yet. “Where to find comfort, in which holy house to seek shelter and to whom to give offerings?“ In her hysteric laugh, she cried out: “I will believe in you if you help me. Whoever you are and where ever you may be, I need you. If you help me, I will believe. I promise!”
__________He had a racer back, muscular and dark. I love it when men have nice-looking backs and I love that one drop of sweat that rolls down the middle of them. His smell was magnificent because he was smelling of me, and is there a scent better than mine? The sound of my cell ringing woke him up. I can not get used to that modern decibels, ancient times were some much quieter with just some soft rattling of birds wings as they flew beneath the clouds. Back then sound did not interrupt smell and all the senses could work in harmony. I picked up the device in my hands, which were already shaking automatically, and turned it off. How ironic. The loudest sound is silenced by the smallest button. I briefly read from the screen what it is about and decided that I had to bring this bead idyll to its end. I got up and carefully sneaked to the window on my toes grabbing my clothes from the chair.
“This is a really clean and tidy room,” I thought to myself and remembered that some men like to clean up their place before they invite a woman over, maybe that is why everything smelled of detergent. I turned my head back to the half-moon in the sky, there isn't a cleaner sight than that.
“If you're leaving already, can I at least know your name?” he asked.
“Does it matter?”
“No, not really,” he whispered and rolled to his other side falling back to sleep.
His interest in me was almost as little as mine was in him. Some things did change for the better, at least nowadays women are allowed the same pleasures as men.
__________She came into her job interview fifteen minutes early perfectly dressed up for a business meeting with a mild makeup on and her hair pulled up. The purple outfit was harmoniously pointing out her tan. Her posture was strong and proud with an attitude that we needed her and not the other way around. A whiff of wild strawberries followed her into the room and lingered in my nostrils. I deeply inhaled the forest she was still carrying with her on her feet, the smell of moist earth that modern shoes and her boring attempt to act distant from her wild side could not hide from me. From everybody else maybe, but not from me.
“Good afternoon, my name is Anna,” she said while reaching for a handshake
“Nice to meet you Anna” I replied and started to take notes “Can you please…”
“With two n” she interrupted me trying to establish her dominance.
“Ok Anna with two n, can you please tell me a little bit about yourself and why you think we should hire you.”
The conversation went on in a boring business tone with standard questions about qualities and flaws, previous employment, habits, skills, and education. When the thirtieth minute of her non-stop talking about her as my ideal employee went by, I raised my hand to silence her and said:
„This is not a workplace for you.”
There was no obvious reaction on her face, almost as if she expected this.
“Thank you for your time,” she whispered and begun to get up from the chair looking forward to getting as far away from me as possible.
“I did not say I do not have a job position for you.” I said whilst looking her straight in the eyes feeling amused by the befuddlement behind them.
“I don't understand,” she replied with an annoyed tone of voice putting one arm on her hip and taking a half-step pose that would have been considered hostile if we were in a different, less business-like environment.
“Children's clothes will not be a challenge for you. We are opening two stores at the same time, this one and another one, a wedding dress shop. I see great potential in you and I think that your skills will be more evident there and that you will rise up to the occasion and meet every challenge with a productive solution. Anna with two n, do you accept my offer?”
After hearing my praise, her pride was kicking in. Her silence did not take up much time. In those long seconds, her thoughts were screaming no, you can't, don't. There was a lot more to this woman then she led others to believe, so much turmoil and hidden desires. This behaviour of hers was just a mask she needed to wear when she wanted others to take her seriously when she was desperately trying to hide a sad little girl who just wanted a friend and a helping hand. Acting all decisively, with a feeling of helplessness well hidden, she said:
“ I accept.”
__________She was crying again. She was not sleeping again, offended, angry and dissatisfied. How long can a woman cry before her tears dry up? Did someone somewhere conduct a research that provided some helpful results on this subject? Is it even possible? They have been fighting for a week. He has been talking about life, laughter, and joy while she's been screaming about pain, loss, and betrayal. He refused to go to work and handed his boss a letter of resignation. Her future husband to be spent that day drinking coffee in various bars with various friends leaving her to suffer alone until he finally came back home.
“If you could just let me explain, If you could just listen to me for a second.” she started to beg him but he wasn't interested as usual.
“There is nothing more for you to say that would change my mind. This is my decision and it's final.”
They were going in circles and having a standard fight where two people seem like they are talking in different languages not understanding each other's words. He was hugging her, smiling and encouraging her and she was crying. Screaming and crying. “Stupid Belgium.” She hated it. She hated Belgium, life and herself, but loved him and because she loved him, she hated him too. Sobbing has exhausted her so she almost fell asleep on the couch, curled up with her clothes still on her. A thought about her tomorrows first day of work snapped her out of dozing off and got her up. She could not decide what to wear and so she paused for a moment with one skirt in one hand and another in the other hand, asking herself did I give her my name. She concluded that surely I was not that rude and that unprofessional, it must have been her who slipped up. Obviously, she forgot my name because she got distracted with a wedding dress shop and the white color that she would not be wearing in two months, the first dance that won't be enjoyed, the cake that won't be cut in front of the guests, and all those years that won't be lived beside him. She decided to correct her error and look my name up on the internet.
Companys web page gave her only male names that sat on board of directors and she felt disappointed with the lack of information about different operation managers. Discouraged, she closed her laptop and took her notebook from the desk. There was so much to do. She had to cancel the hall and the bend, notify the guests and try to arrange a refund where ever possible. She was planning to spend the rest of the evening calmly, with no emotions and no tears. She will deal with this like she would with a cancelling of a business meeting and not like a major part of her life. “Feelings off, brain on.” A praise that suddenly made everything easier.
__________When she came to her first-day on the job at the shop, you could almost see the anxiety on her face. She was nervous and her stomach nausea was telling her to walk away. “Money is important,“ she whispered to herself, put on a big smile, opened the door and entered the store. The whiteness astonished her. Everything was arranged perfectly, every white dress, every flower garland and every vase, even the music was appealing, soft and unintrusive but funky enough to make the customers stay a bit longer. She was able to maintain her focus while I was explaining my expectations regarding her attitude towards the employees and the frequency of changing of the dresses in the shop window. We went through all the papers and rules and just as I was telling her about our designers and their commissions, she got lost for a moment in her own thoughts about his selfishness.
“Anna with two n” I called her “Are you alright?”
“Mmm, yes, sorry. I know it's not the best excuse but my concentration is down because I haven't had anything for breakfast yet.”
She was polite, with a mix of fear from her new boss and a desire to portray herself in the best possible light with just a touch of humility that was necessary. Every employee is scared of his boss on his first day on the job.
I smiled at her, trying to ease her discomfort, and suggested a nice coffee shop just across the street. She was reluctant while I was describing the place and talking about all the beautiful green decorative plants and imported Guatemala coffee but when I mentioned that they bake their own desserts there was a twinkle in her eye. I knew she had a sweet tooth. Her love of chocolate was stronger than her opinion of how inappropriate it is to socialize with your employer. We took a stroll and I felt grateful both for the short distance and for her being up for a walk. I was glad I did not have to turn on that lifeless four-wheeled metal beast. Living with horses was so much simpler. You could feel their strength beneath you as you rode them, you could feel a living creature with its own heartbeat and its own breath carrying you on its back, you could feel life and you could feel alive.
She found the coffee shop more pleasing that she admitted, especially the broad terrace that we sat on. Tables were far enough from each other so you could have a feeling of privacy even though there were at least twenty people there enjoying their break, minding their own business and discussing some trivial things amongst each other. That coffee shop was a meeting place and the centre of communication but it wasn't overwhelmed by the noise and activity of daily life, there was more of a murmur than a racket, with a noise pollution that acted more as a scenery than as a distraction. After the waiter brought us our coffee and cakes I went straight to the point. I have all the time in the world but none of it is for beating around the bush.
“Anna with two n, on your job interview, why haven't you told me that your husband is dying?”
You know how in the movies, when there is a dramatic situation or a sudden plot twist, the main character usually drops a cop and it brakes, he trips and falls or he chokes with his food? Anna did quite the opposite, she froze. Her look was full of contempt as if I insulted her somehow and for a moment there it seemed like the coffee was going to, instead of on the floor, end up right in my face. In her mind, she was cursing the digital era, social networks and numerous affiliations that I supposedly had around the hospital staff but most of all she was cursing my manners. “Who does she think she is?!” she thought to herself but quietly and in a fairly diplomatic manner responded:
“You obviously know a lot already so I don't feel the need for anything else to say, besides that isn't any of your business, is it? How is your question even appropriate?”
“Appropriateness has never been one of my strong suits.” I replied “and do not trouble yourself with what information I do or do not have, but instead give me yours. Tell me everything you know.”
She wanted to give me the finger, she wanted to describe to me in detail all the terrible ways in which I should leave and of course, she wanted to quit her job hoping never to see me again but something in my eyes reminded her of something or someone, she couldn't really tell. In a blink of an eye, she tamed her anger and put it on a figurative leash. There was something familiar about that situation, about me, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, almost like a sense of Deya Vu or remembering a dream. Curiosity is a funny thing indeed, it made Anna drop all her shields and open up to me. She didn't forget that we just met, that I was a stranger and her boss, she just didn't care anymore partially because she was too tired of dealing with it alone and partially because my knowledge intrigued her. Somehow she was feeling like she did back there in her forest with a scent of wild berries in the wind. Something was soothing her, making her calm and safe. There was no rational explanation for this and for some reason she didn't mind the mystery. She recited all the details professionally and seriously. She explained all there is to explain about tumours in temporal lobe emphasizing the dimension of six centimetres and gave me almost a medical definition of the term terminal cancer.
“That's all physical, where are the emotional details?” I interrupted her “Why won't you accept that his mind is made up? Why are you still wishful thinking that his decision is debatable?”
All her good manners and all her professional posture went away in a second. She was not mad at me as she was before, oh no. Now I was sensing fear spreading from her to all directions. How could I have known that detail of her private life if not even Google knows? She had a lot of questions and a lot of fear. While nodding her head, it looked like it was oscillating around the necks vertebra. She bit her lower lip as she always does in stressful situations and finally found the courage to ask:
“Private detectives? Spying devices?”
Her fight or flight response was kicking in and I knew I had to defuse a potentially dangerous continuation. I had to keep this bad situation from getting even worse by any means necessary.
“Do I look like someone who enjoys modern technology?”
I laughed and inhaled another smoke from my cigarette, its warmth spread through my lungs and found its way back to my mouth and out to other elements in the air which surrounded us. I offered her one and she accepted it, giving me a nervous smile as a way of saying thank you for this badly needed pause and a form of truce, an opportunity to gather her thoughts and calm her heartbeat. She inhaled that first smoke with her eyes closed sending a signal to her muscles to relieve the built-up tension and relax. I did not want to demotivate her from continuing this conversation so I had to choose my next words carefully.
“Anna with two n, in this moment, but not only this one, in all moments that interchange in our lives, it does not matter how much someone, in this case me, knows or doesn't know about something. It is far more important what a person does with the knowledge she has and I assure you, my intentions are good. Not all things under this sky are here for you to rationalize them.”
Then she was calm, then she was willing to listen and most of all, then she was ready to think…
“Answer the question that I asked you earlier, why won't you accept his solution?”
And then she wasn't…
“Solution!?!” she screamed at me “Euthanasia is not a solution, it's everything but that, it is a surrender and a way of giving up.”
At least she was talking and not running away, talking so loud that the other guests started looking at us annoyed by all the shouting. The waiter peeped his head behind the counter and raised his eyebrows expecting some sort of explanation but instead, he only got a brief apology. Tears started to gather in corners of her eyes but I knew I had to keep this thing going.
“Alright. You don't think that is a solution. Do you have a better idea?”
“Surgical operation and chemotherapy.” she replied “Doctors turned us down here but that doesn't mean that in some other country they won't agree with me and treat him. He has his mind stuck on Belgium because of his dual nationality and because mercy killings are allowed up there but I want us to find a place where he can begin with treatments.”
Ability to find such a place was just a wishful thinking and she was aware of that but a large part of her still wasn't able to let go.
“Earlier you explained to me the word terminal, but do you really know its meaning? Doctors did not turn you down because they don't want to do the surgery but because the tumour is inoperable. It is too big, it's covering too big part of his brain. I do not think you have made your peace with the fact that in a couple of months he isn't going to survive this, he is going to die.”
“I know he's going to die, I'm not stupid!!!” she raised her voice again, and again people around us got upset.
A couple of them started whispering among themselves and pointing fingers in our direction. They weren't pleased with this sudden disturbance. The waiter came to our table and warned us:
“If you do not keep your voices down, I will have to ask you to leave.”
I could smell his muscular perfume and feel my hands going through his thick black hair. ”What is it with me and waiters?“ I thought but was interrupted in my short time fantasy when Anna continued, this time more softly:
„In one month he is going to give up on his life, on our life. He is going to waive the possibility of recovering and just throw away the time we could have gotten. He is selfish.”
Those last two words she spoke so silently that I'm not sure she even heard it, but I did.
“So let me get this straight. He is selfish because he doesn't want to spend his last six months with you but you are not selfish for wanting him to spend his final days suffering, with no balance of the body what so ever and no ability to speak?”
It was clear to me that she was thinking about the things I was saying so I decided to continue this torture since I've already started it. I had her undivided intention. She leaned back in her chair tired of all of this, discouraged from the possibility of having any sort of happy ending, not in this conversation and not in her life. She started repeating to herself in her mind “Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry…”
“Listen to me carefully Anna with two n,” I gently touched her shoulder comforting her “I will allow myself to speak my mind about this and with my opinion, you can do whatever you want, keep it or discard it, it's up to you and as a matter of fact it doesn't even matter. This is your life, your relationship and it's only up to you how things are going to unfold.”
She shrugged her shoulders and stared at me uninterested. She was feeling defeated and no one, not even I, knew if she heard any of my next words or did she just let them pass straight through her leaving no trace behind them, no memory and no effect.
“Let me try and show you things from a different perspective. You are currently looking at a number nine and not even thinking that it's a number six if you just walk across the table and look at it from that point of view.”
“I am in no mood for math problems.” she giggled and took another one of my cigarettes.
“It's not a matter of math but of a point of view, be patient and bear with me. In your vast sea of thoughts, you must first make out all the facts and separate them from opinions. In truth, there is only one fact, he and he alone has the right to decide what to do with his life.”
“Oh really?” she asked sarcastically blowing smoke to my face that made me cough a little.
That troubled teenager that I haven't seen in years was slowly showing its head in her character. She even began to tap her foot in the rhythm of the music that was playing in the background. Her ability to change her mood so quickly was amazing.
“Yes really. You consider this as selfishness but I ask you again, how is he selfish and you are not? Your position in this is that he owes you his suffering, he must spend as much time as possible with you before his death and on the other hand, he thinks that seven years full of uncountable moments of joy and happiness are enough. He wants that kind of moments to be your last.”
Words “to be your last” echoed in her head so she shook it a little bit to let them go.
“He can't imagine himself going through the agony of pain because he won't be the only one who is going to suffer, you are too and your last memory of him will be associated with a sick person who can't walk or talk, who is skinny, pale with no hair and taking a handful of pills just to get up from the bed at morning and function like a human being for five minutes. Is that really the life you want for the person whom you love? I know that you know it is not.”
She nodded in agreement with a sad look in her eyes, a look of accepting the inevitable. She was perfectly aware of what was going to happen next, she had a good idea about what I was about to say next, and even dough she knew it would hurt, she listened on.
“So here's the real reason why you want this, because of yourself. You are the one who needs more time, you are the one who is going to suffer when he dies. Since you are both atheists, you won't have fears of hell and similar stuff, and he won't be in pain while dead, he won't suffer and have problems of any kind. You are going to miss him and have to find a way to move on with your life without him, how to wake up every morning alone in your bed, without his breath on your skin, how to prepare breakfast for one and not for two. You will have to come back to an empty house and your phone won't be filled with his messages and calls.”
And then came the tears, no one could stop them, not me, not her and definitely not the nervous waiter who was giving us the stare of rage for ruining the good atmosphere and giving that place a depressive vibe. I couldn't have cared less, the only thing on my mind was helping her through this. I pulled out a box of tissues from my purse and offered it to her. She tried to clean up her face but it was too late, her make-up was ruined. Those were not shy tears. Those salty drops of water were materialized emotions and she had a lot of them. There, in front of her new employer, a complete stranger and in public, surrounded by all those people, she finally broke. Nothing mattered. There was no more worrying about me, no shame because of public display of feelings, and no fear for her job or discomfort because of the waiter, only sadness, an endless sea of sadness.
“His death will strike you harder than it will him. The ethics of euthanasia have been discussed so much in recent history and chewed upon that people are sick of it. Certain religious groups promote suffering as a way of getting closer to God and think that only He has the right to end someone's life comparing this with common suicide and marking it as an unforgivable sin.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head showing her contempt towards chosen suffering and fanatics who promoted it.
“But you don't have this problem.” I continued “If you were a religious person we would have had a different conversation about this subject, but since you're not I will skip the part of my speech that involves the arrogance of people who claim to know what Gods want and give themselves the right to speak in Their name.”
A part of my divine nature peeked from behind the mystery that she saw me as. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck and she trembled in front of me not even knowing why. As soon as I calmed myself down she was again feeling fine and have forgotten all about that terrifying feeling from just a moment ago.
“The other fact that I have to warn you about is that the Earth is still going to rotate around its orbit the day after he dies. People are still going to live their lives like nothing happened. Even if at this moment all of these people in this coffee shop die, tomorrow will still happen.”
Maybe I said that part too loudly because all the tables suddenly emptied, everyone who was sitting around us left. It felt good to see her smile at that, she was feeling amused by the fact that we started to scare people off.
“Some things in life you can not change, you can only learn how to live with them, accept them and deal with them. If you jump off the building there is no doubt you will fall, there is no arguing with gravity. You can not change some things no matter how hard you try to debate them, words are sometimes powerless. Whatever you decide, however you may act around him from this moment on, his death is still going to happen. You may hate it or love it but that doesn't change the fact that it will indeed happen.”
She gained acceptance for the things that were coming her way but lost any remaining part of her self-confidence so I had to ease her worries.
“You are doubting yourself and you are doubting your ability to survive. You are asking your self will you be strong enough to exist without him, and I am telling you that you are. People survive terrible things like rape, murder, wars, the death of their children, physical disabilities, and sickness and still manage to carry on with their lives. That is the beauty of human race, survival. There are people out there who are so poor or so sick that it is hard for us healthier and wealthier to even look at them. We cling to our chest and turn our heads the other way because we can not deal with sympathy and pain and yet, those people still find a reason to smile. Sick, poor, cheated on, stolen from and all the other ones dealing with their own kind of hardship still laugh and play and make jokes and find the reasons for joy and gratitude. ”
“I am not those people, I am weak.” she said “Look at me, do I look like a strong person to you? Do I look like I can handle this?” her words were sounding more like ironic statements than like questions.
“You are strong, you will get through this. I am not saying that it's going to be easy because it is not. You are going to remember him for the rest of your life and probably love him too. However lame this might sound and however cliché, it will get easier with time. It won't heal all your wounds but it will help you deal with them. If I was to give you only one advice, and it's completely up to you to accept it or not, it is to enjoy every moment with him. Love him and allow him to love you back. Accept that it is his decision to make and if he has made it, respect it. Be there for him and enjoy him. Seize every opportunity for a kiss, touch, and a kind word. Do not grieve and cry while he's still alive, there will be plenty of time for that when he's gone. Use the remaining time wisely. Love and be loved.”
__________Almost half a year past from my monologue at that coffee shop and Anna with two n has forgotten me. She still works at the wedding shop and has a good relationship with her bosses and other employees, she still likes drinking coffee and eating cakes in that coffee shop where she had to explain to the waiter that she doesn't know what he is talking about, he must have mistaken her for somebody else because she wasn't screaming at some woman there and never in her life smoked a cigarette. Her husband got his wish and had a euthanasia in Belgium. Anna was by his side until the end and she decided to live one day at a time choosing to find in each one at least one event, person, instance or a thing to make her happy. Maybe she would have made that conclusion without me, and maybe not, it doesn't matter. She found the strength she didn't believe she had and that's what is important. Sometimes it's easier and sometimes it's harder. Tears come and go because when she thinks of him she is thinking with gratitude for all the time they spent together. She is so grateful for that time and for him. She loves life and she loves herself.
“Why are your hands shaking?” he asked me.
I wasn't even aware he was awake. I tried to get dressed silently but obviously failed. The apartment was cluttered and filled with things laying around. I think this was my first time seeing that much of a mess. Finding my clothes was a challenge that I accomplished too loudly.
“My phone is about to ring.” I replied still staring at the full moon.
He was looking at me all confused with those blue eyes whose colour shined even in this chaotic dark apartment. His skin was pale like he was some old monarch afraid of sunlight. He wanted to ask me something else but my phone started ringing and interrupted him.
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Keep your smile on!
This is such a captivating story, I have always loved reading and it formed the greatest part of my young life - as a child I grew up on an isolated farm and reading stories was a way to escape - the fondest memories I have were the Famous 5 books by Enid Blyton - which helped me to grow my imagination. Some 35 years later the joy of reading has finally found me again, Steemit is crammed with creative writers but I was enthralled when I was lucky enough to chance across @techslut and start reading her @mistress series. Captivating writing, I know the @isleofwrite does so much to support writers - but her novel shared on here is truly a inspiration and to my shame I am very behind reading the chapters - I will catch up but it still feels a shame I could not support her works more during the payout period. Good writing can do so much for everyone though, it's inspirational and can take us to places that are unique - it can be an escape or simply a relaxing time to enjoy and learn.
Thank you for sharing your writing, and I look forward to reading even more as the tale progresses.
#thealliance
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Thank you so much, I am glad you enjoyed it, and thanks for sharing your experience with books. I too, always enjoyed reading, still do actually. Lovely of you to stop by 💚
This post has been upvoted and picked by Daily Picked #20! Thank you for the cool and quality content. Keep going!
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Thank you 💚
A really cool story, and easy to track. I wish I could hold it in my hands and read it like a book. Until you publish it, I can't wait to see next chapter.
P.S.
This "Anna with two n" reminded me when I was introducing myself during my stay in the USA, and I say my name is Dominik, I always said I am Dominik with a "k" on the end. Some of them would act like they don't care and others would probably think why the hell is his name Dominick.
Thank you for your input Dominick :D
They know how to write my name but always pronounce it so weird hahahaha, when they say it it sounds like it has the Č in it :)
OMG, his is awesome i have read it 1/4 its very big i will read t in night but i like the narration , and you are too good, why you are nervous publishing it dear you are too good..... ;-)
@adityajainxds #thealliance
Thank you for your kind words sweety, I appreciate your input 💚
Good luck with your new book.I hope it's sold out in just a few days!
I hope so too, thank you 💚
Awsome write up @zen-art 👌 no doubt you got a touch to be a famous author.
The scene of cafee shop is making me belive to be present in real....also Anna (with 2n)is brave lady👍
Thank you honey, I am glad you enjoyed and liked it. 💚
Wow, this blows me away, loooved it so much and it's going to be a book? I would love to have that book ones it's out.
Well written and I'm happy you decided to post it here. Happy Friday my friend and thank you for sharing. Made my evening. 🤗💕
Thank you for your kind words, I am glad you enjoyed the story. Have a great Friday yourself 💚💚💚
NOM NOM
Are you enjoying your meal there sweety? 💚
It is nice to see you here @killerwhale, thank you for your support.
Very creative writing! You say this will all be published into a book?
Hopefully :) I am currently in the progress of wrapping it all up and still have some work on the last 3 out of 9 stories. When I finish, and I intend to by the end of April, the search for an agent begins :)
Thanks for reading 💚
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