My eyes drifted from one sentence to the next. I seethed as I glared at the word choice, flow and structure. They were…perfect. How could somebody write so majestically? Moreover, it bothered me that her writing was significantly superior to mine.
I switched off my phone because putting it on silent didn’t deter Nikki from calling me for the umpteenth time. On so many occasions, I told her that I would call her when I wasn’t with clients. I noticed from the beginning that she was a bit crazy
A smile on my face appeared as the email that I waited for the entire year had arrived. This year will be different. I know it. My heartbeat gained a bit of momentum. I’m apprehensive about opening it. What if it’s not what I’m expecting?
Mandy wasn’t the most qualified candidate I invited to my house. She didn’t have a culinary degree or butler experience like some of the professionals I saw. She didn’t even have a driver’s license, which was necessary for going to the supermarket
The twenty people in front of me clapped after I finished the last song. This wasn’t how I pictured my career turning out at the age of forty. I thought I would be selling stadiums. Producing great songs wasn’t enough in this industry to make it big
I down another shot of tequila. I think that was the fifth one. Maybe sixth. I’m not sure. Who cares? It’s not like anyone at home is going to complain if I come late or drunk. I tap the shot glass on the bar, and the barman nods at me
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Mr Walters. He was my father’s right-hand man for almost twenty years. “My condolences, Keira. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” I nodded. My father spoke highly of Mr Walters
I murmured, my vision blurry and my body feeling like somebody had beaten me with a bat after my ringing phone woke me up. It was 2:30 am. God, who is it now? It was an unfamiliar number. “Hello,” I said, groggily. “Hey, brotherman.”
There are three weeks left in the year, and I plan to write one more short story before the end of December. Man, this year has gone by so fast, but I managed to publish 22 stories on the blog. That doesn’t include the articles that I published as well.
I rolled my eyes after Mom told me that she wanted me to accompany her to Dad’s place for Thanksgiving. More than a decade later, she wanted us to act like we were a happy family who were never torn apart thanks to her promiscuous