It's a finger snapping kind of day.

Color me....BRILLIANT.

Writers do not have the privilege of sleep. There is always a story coming alive in their heads, constantly composing. Whether they choose it or not.

You cannot mistake this
You cannot reinvent this moment
You cannot call this love
It is so much more

When we are in love, we are convinced nobody else will do. But as time goes, others do do, and often do do, much much better.

He had let me know time after time that he was a thinking man, a man of intellect and wit. Yet one unintended hungry look into my eyes and he betrayed each of his words he had carefully spoken to me. I knew it in that instant. He was a viscerally driven man. And one day, he would possess me.