*Picture courtesy of Pixabay and is free for commercial use. I originally started to write this in response to another user, @hayleyuk but decided to make it a post, because I think it's something that

(Image my own, and is a picture of the bridge I used to have to cross to get to my home when I lived in WV. I rather feel like I used to when I had to cross that bridge now...uncertain, confused, and desperate

(Image courtesy of pixabay, and is free for commercial use. Don't be that little girl about to be eaten by a demon!) It occurred to me one day that, while Steemit is great, I can't remove what I put into

**Just a note...I've been a busy girl, it's been a busy year, and lots has changed in the world, but it's all stayed the same really, hasn't it? I haven't forgot about you, fellow Steemians, I've just

I took a break as work became overwhelming and Portugal burned. The world basically ignored it, even tourists ignored it, breathtaking plumes of smoke filling the sky as acres of land burned, but what

For most people, the place they were born is special, it is their home. For me, my birthplace is magical, special, and displays, to me, a perfect example of the civic sacred. I would go further and say

*Picture courtesy of Pixabay I think this about sums up most of us lately From Facebook to real life, from my author newsletter to Steem, there are waves of despair that cross oceans and continents. The

WARNING: There are bad words below. More than a few... I've had this friend for a while now. Let's call him Mark, because I don't want to get sued. Mark is a refugee from one of those countries close to

You see that thing in front of the giant dog overtaking my bed? Yeah, that's my brand new ar climatizador, purchased, at last, with the knowledge that I have the SBD to cover what was taken out of our

My Dad sent me this picture yesterday to show how beautiful home is. How beautiful it has always been, really. I miss those mountains terribly. They really are like the embrace of a mother that will always

It's been a while, and I've been super-busy (read trying not to sweat to death), and typing up a storm, but not for myself. I've got this nifty little writing position with a lady that works for Unicef

I am the last one. The last of my kind. There is not a soul left on the planet that will be able to read my words. The last one that will be able to give my message to others. I can’t dare to hope that

Mike cranked the dial on his newest installation, a car stereo with lots of bells and whistles and not one or two, but three colors of lights, and the music began to blare, covering the sound of his cackling

I haven't done anything in a while. I'm busy. Quite overwhelmingly busy. Which is cool, it means I'm working towards that longed for air conditioner, but in the back of my mind I'm thinking you need to

I don't have a terrible life. I'm not a millionaire, I can sometimes even afford to eat TWICE in one day, but we stay afloat. We do that by my awesome ability to write novels in two weeks. I've done it,

This story can also be found on Wattpad right here. I wrote it for a contest for The Handmaid's Tale. My view of the world is different from a man's. A man looks up, looks out, and sees what is his domain.

Yes, this is my life story, the beginning of it anyway. It might be a few days before we get to the how did I end up in Portugal part. Maybe even longer because all of this isn't easy to write. PS: The

It's hot. Not just a little...a lot. I have three fans going and I'm dying. Maybe for reals. Who knows? I'm chugging down water as fast as I can but, it's bloody hot! No, my hair isn't fresh out of a shower

*This was originally featured on Wattpad, but I've taken it down. As you can guess, I'm moving it all to Steemit now. The first part of the story was based on an event that actually happened to me as I

(Image from Pixabay and is free for commercial use) Nelsan Ellis died yesterday from complications due to heart failure. Of course, the Armchair Army of Experts in Everything are already sneering the word