(Saludos. he estado desconectado unos días por que estaba de vacaciones con mi marido en Egipto. Aun así, he aprovechado los trayectos en autobús, avión, o sea, los tiempos muertos, para escribir en mi móvil una historia erótica. La subiré poco a poco por que no quiero desatender mi proyecto principal de los 7 pecados. Eso si, no buscare gifs ni imágenes, po...
Hello, and welcome to the ninth issue of Tales from Snippettsville, Short Stories From A Small Town. If you want to know what it's all about, go to Snippettsville Group If you have any feedback, and let's face it, as writers we all love feedback, just click on the author's name, in blue at the head of their piece. If you want to make a general comment on...
Nicki Minaj si ritrova a intervistare in un posto, principalmente in una stanza che non aveva mai visto prima, una stanza che ha piccoli buchi ai lati, e chiunque l'abbia intervistata non era in vista. inizia l'intervista con domande sulla sua carriera di cantante e cose del genere poi durante l'intervista esce da questi buchi nei muri, un cazzo piccolo ma c...
On the edge of the L.A. suburb Hollywood was a sprawling set of buildings surrounded by a concrete wall topped with barbed wire. Apart from the neon sign that said 'Shooting Star Studios,' it looked like a bunch of warehouses in a prisoner-of-war camp. However, enter one of those buildings and you would be transported to another place and time—the interior o...
----- Como siempre, para mi mama. (Like always, for my mother.) ----- I did not want to be there, especially with the guitar weighing me down. The crowd made me uncomfortable as soon as I opened the door. I had made a decision though; my discomfort meant nothing. I looked around the off-campus hangout; it was surprisingly large for a non-franchise coffeeh...
Chapter 2 Awkward Shane took the Powell Street cable car to the North Beach section of town and got off where the Mapquest directions told her to, at Chestnut Street. She stepped to the curb at the corner of the intersection where the cable car stopped, to get out of the street, and set down her small canvas duffel on the sidewalk. She turned to look downhi...
14 Winston Lynn faded from my life like an unfixed print exposed to direct light or as the vibrant colors of some fish dissolve into dead grayness when they are caught and pulled from the water. Her work now entailed much more travel than ever before, with trips to the west coast or New York several times each month. More and more frequently I found myse...
3 Lynn Of course everything changed in Boston. Even in the glorious insanity of that first month in California, I always knew it would. And I assumed Winston did too. But, in retrospect, perhaps he didn't. At least not that it would change so much. How could he? Even I didn't know that. It was love at first sight. Imagine the late unlamented Marlboro ma...
Salutations, dear reader. My name is Gertrude Finkelstein and I am a woman with a rather important story to share with you. I was born in the City of Woodward, Oklahoma, in 1977, to a Jewish American family of German and Polish descent. In the summer of 1995 I moved to Boston, Massachusetts, to study at Northeastern University. I earned a Master's degree in...
Mr. Z came home from work early. The office had been slow and it was Friday. The whole weekend was before him, so he had ducked out early to get a good jump on the work free days ahead. He parked his car in his space inside the six-stall garage that was attached to the huge, perfectly landscaped house. He lived in this house with two friends, Mr. X and Mr. Y...