She waved her arms, jumped up and down, but not a single person noticed, even though there were plenty near.
Her bold orange blouse and flamboyant floral jodhpurs, a sight to behold for those who might’ve seen, had
They bothered. A certain age had rendered her transparent, of no apparent interest to the world at large. Their loss,
She thought, launching into a power ballad that threatened to shatter windows. Except no one was listening.
A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
My streams of thought meet here
Conceptual Photographer and Writer
Ramblings
Killer Fiction
Music and Storytelling
Besteesydian
A bit of this...A bit of that...bit of everything...come on in...
Life in a flash - a bi-weekly storytelling blog
MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
Nice Poem Painted Toes
Regards,
Coda Call
Turntable, Texas
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¡Muchas gracias, señor!
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I dig the video, darling.
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I hear you.
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It’s a sad fact of life. We almost have to become eccentric to be noticed.
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Well my darling…I notice YOU xx
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And I notice YOU! Thank you!
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AWWWW xxxx
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