Hello, welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. Thursday’s special is a generous portion of hand cut letters, gently seared into thin waferlike words, layered over a bed of 6 sentences. Hostess Zoe, of Uncharted, will be serving a full menu of such delicacies at her bloghop, Six Sentence Stories.
Ms. Zoe is most cordial and offers her kitchen to anyone looking to indulge in the culinary art of Six Sentence Story creation. Seating is unlimited and no reservations needed! The only requirement is that your dish contain only 6 sentences with no artificial additives, and in case you are tempted – absolutely, no additional sides. Your sentences may be served grilled, barbequed, sauteed, baked or fried… Ingredients, method of preparation and presentation, all entirely up to you. Come now, join us in a feast of creative camaraderie.
I’d been wearing sadness so long even the lining had begun to fray, rent from its outer shell.
Still warm, still protection against the elements, what hadn’t I weathered short of my inability to inure myself from affairs of the heart, the temptations of an infatuous fling.
If sadness is the coat, then fear is the belt cinching it closed at my waistline, half way between head and feet, thought and action.
So many friends gone, taken by death, lost to distant geography, I counted my blessings (still) feeling the allure of youth despite appearance otherwise.
Standing in the shadows, wrapped tightly, a low ground fog cooly caressing my ankles, I recognized the platform where I first found sadness.
Startled from my reverie by the distant bellows of an approaching locomotive, its echos carried by midnight’s hush, I turned and reached for his outstretched hand.