I don't need to think about time difference right now so I'm calling much more with my family then he has started to copy me. Haha
He is just sooo sweet.thats all I just wanted to say♥
#体温計 も #リモコン も息子にかかればみんなからのもしもし〜の嵐。
Just then, something grazed Jaran’s left arm. They both looked up to see a cloaked man with a bow drawn at full stretch on a hill not so far away.
“Shit, that was quicker than I expected.”
“You knew that was going to happen?” Jaran was screaming again.
“Yes, I did. I thought I made the fact that I’ve done this thing several times evident.”
“Yeah, well…ugh. Fair point, again.
“So, what’re we doi — ” Jaran stopped when he saw what Rip was doing.
The Reaper had conjured a bow and arrow of his own — no quiver, just one arrow nocked and drawn, his arms outstretched, testing the bow’s elasticity. He raised it steadily and took aim. If you could call squinting his eyes like he was in an Old West high noon taking aim, that is.
No way in a million fucking years is he going to be able to hit him from there. Not in just one shot, Jaran thought. What happened next though, was quite surprising. Satisfied, Rip lifted his two fingers from the serving and let the arrow fly. It hit the man squarely in the chest, knocking him off his point of vantage.
“Goddamn, wow. Good shot.”
“Like I said — been doing this for a while. Anyway, let’s go. More serious threats are bound to be on their way.” Rip began to move further down the road, leaving Jaran no option but to follow.
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Some short story collections that I loved or have really enjoyed reading from. I first started reading short fiction about six years ago after I read Hemingway’s “Hills like White Elephants” in one of my English classes. Up until then, I was never drawn to short stories, but I remember how I felt after reading Hemingway’s work: a little confused, but fascinated by how short the piece was and how much it said without necessarily having to say it.
I always read when I was younger, then in high school, I didn’t have much time to read my own books, and if I did have free time, reading was the last thing I wanted to do. The love of reading I now have and the fact that I study literature is due to Ernest Hemingway. His works, especially his short stories, and A Farewell to Arms, the first of his novels that I read, reminded me of how much I loved to read when I was little. Now, I can’t imagine my life without books, without reading, and I can’t imagine my home without its 500 (or more) books.
Hopefully the weather will start to warm up, I can’t wait to read outside🌿
Will stood up straight and puffed out his chest. He spoke in as deep a voice as his fourteen-year-old vocal cords could muster. “I hereby order, by Royal Decree, that you, Elijah the Beautiful, must remove your gloves, so that I can feel your hand in mine.” Will burst out into a fit of giggles. “Just give me the damn gloves, cutie.” Elijah blushed a deep red, but he smiled and took off the gloves. “Here you go, your Royal Highness.” Will rolled his eyes and stuffed the gloves into his pocket. He took Elijah’s hand and led him out onto the dancefloor.
Elijah didn’t know how to dance, so he let Will guide his movements and he soon caught on. An hour later they were still out there and were attracting more stares than any couple, except for the Princess and her chosen companion. The music slowed, and Will pulled Elijah close. Though he was a year younger, Will has about three inches taller than Elijah. “You have the brightest and most beautiful green eyes that I have ever seen. Brighter even than the emerald in my father’s treasury.” Will said, looking down at Elijah.
Elijah just couldn’t seem to stop blushing around this boy. “Hey now, don’t even talk about pretty eyes with those beautiful baby blues of yours.” Elijah reached up and pushed the hair out of Will’s eyes. “And your hair is perfect, too.” He smiled. “Listen, blondie, don’t get me started on perfect hair.” Will smirked.
Elijah couldn’t help but smile. “You’re gonna have like a million princesses come calling when it’s time for your own Royal Ball. You’re as sweet as you are gorgeous. She’ll be a lucky girl, whoever you pick.”
Maria always chooses Room 27 when she visits her dad. For a long time, I assumed that her Dad could not host her. Maybe his flat or house was too small. But I understood after a listening in to a couple of conversations over the phone that Maria's dad was married with someone who did not want to meet his children. He had compartmentalised his life. His past and his present. And he kept the connections from his past at a distance from the places & people of his present. And so when Maria visited him she was staying in my room. This happened four times a year. At Christmas, in May -which I discovered subsequently was his birthday- early summer and in October.⠀
Check our new story on Littlewords.live!⠀
➡ Change. Most people don't like change, mostly because it’s commonly associated with negative things. Quite often its painful due to people thinking of it as losing something, misplacing one piece of the puzzle which held everything together and not being able to get it back, losing their composure. But change is good. Depending on the way you look at it, it is always good. Every change you experience might mean that something ended, but at that point - something new started. You start growing from it to your own expectations, becoming stronger, feeling refreshed. You feel inspired to move on and never stop again, embracing every change like a blessing. Even though at times it can feel like coming down from the top of the world, right back to the slumps of failure and starting all over again, you can benefit from it. Only through acceptance you can really benefit from the change that has been made, letting go of the past and embracing the things to come. Looking over and in between the clouds that scare you to move on, searching for a beam of light, getting a glimpse of the good things approaching. Striving to make yourself better through the storm, to make the next day better than yesterday, making it your ultimate goal to clear up the mess that’s been served to you, over and over again rising from it and looking up into the sky with a smile on your face thinking - until next time.
Sun always comes after the rain. . .
داستانک شماره ی ۲۱: (به یاد شازده کوچولو)...
از وقتی قصهء شیرین و بی نهایت لطیف شازده کوچولو را خوانده بود خیلی چیزها برایش جور دیگری شده بود. مثلا شب ها با دقت به ستاره ها نگاه می کرد و با خودش فکر می کرد اخترک شازده کوچولو کجای آسمان بی کران می تواند باشد؟ یا هر گل سرخی که می دید به یاد گل سرخ او می افتاد. گندمزارها را که می دید حرف روباه و موهای طلایی آن پسر کوچک را به یاد می آورد. و حتی به کویرهم حس خاصی پیدا کرده بود، چون مسافر کوچولو در کویر فرود آمده بود.
دلش می خواست به شیوه ای آن قصه را در زندگی خودش جاودانه کند.
نشست و نقاشی اش کرد.
حالا می توانست آن قصه را همیشه جلوی چشمانش مجسم داشته باشد. اما دلش راضی نشد.
نقاشی اش را در نمایشگاه برای بازدید گذاشت تا دیگران را هم در تجسمش شریک کند، اما این هم راضی اش نکرد. حس می کرد چیزی فراتر از این ها باید باشد تا شازده کوچولو را در زندگی اش ماندگار کند.
و یک روز چشمان معصوم یک بچه که دست در دست مادرش در نمایشگاه به آن نقاشی خیره شده بود به او فهماند چه باید بکند. با خودش فکر کرد در دنیا مسافر کوچولوهای بسیاری هستند که به مهربانی نیاز دارند، مسافر کوچولوهایی تنها، بی پناه، بیمار، و معصوم.
برای کمک به آن ها نقاشی اش را به بالاترین قیمت فروخت. دلش آرام گرفت. و سرانجام حس کرد که حالا واقعا تجسم آن شاهزادهء کوچک در زندگی اش ماندگار شده است.
This story has been posted elsewhere before but it has since been adapted into the first of three animations called A Planet divided. The second part of which I will share tomorrow. Please enjoy.
Story “Rise Above and let the air purify those who resist.” Celcus – King of the first sky castle.
I stumbled upon a world in which none of the three races that inhabited the planet lived on the land. After a large-scale conflict the surface of the planet became a neutral zone on which none of the planets residents could reside. The Caelum People lived in the Sky, the Buccellin lived underground and the Respirians lived in the oceans. I visited each of the three races individually, the first of which was the Caelum People who lived in grand floating castles held up in the air by giant balloons. The Caelum People’s society was divided into a class system with a monarchy living in the highest peaks of the towers and the lowest in society living in the pointed base of each city; they lived in maze like dungeons whilst the rich lived the life of luxury. Although the cities were impressive, what they did with them left a bad taste in my mouth.
Saudara cuman beda setahun (bulannya sama jadi ultahnya barengan deh (ngga pernah di buat acara sih 😅), tanggalnya cuman beda 22/23 hari (bedanya dia tanggal muda, dan aku tanggal tua😭), tahunnya beda satu angka dibelakang doang) sering di bilang kembar waktu kecil, sekarang udah enggak (alhamdulillah 😂)
@mia_hidayat 02 Juni 1994
@lizyalfirahmatia 24 Juni 1995