| This is all stuff that I wrote myself. Please read, comment, enjoy! |

Epitaph for an Old Italian WomanWe walk into the apartment building. The building for old people.Epitaph for an Old Italian Woman by =snurtz
It smells like old people.
We silently take the elevator to the second floor; her room is 205. Mom has the key, so she opens the door. The apartment is so empty. No little old ladies with white hair and a waggling crooked finger.
Empty.
There's still newspaper on the floor by the door. Mom and I remove our shoes and put them on the newspaper, lest her ghost throw shoes at us. Or, maybe, hit us with a broom. She never did it to me, but Mom says she used to.
The pantry is full of food; mostly Fig Newtons. We always brought her Italian cookies when we came to visit, but she'd make us eat them while we were there. We would insist they were for her, but what good were cookies without someone to share them with? Italian cookies, Fig Newtons, and tea.
The cookie jar on the counter is full of tea bags. You could never have Italian cookies and Fig Newtons without

The Vacationers ch.4One day and a lot of complaining later, Blythe and Zoe found their way out of the forest and into a small clearing. There was no grass on the ground just dirt but Blythe was grateful to be out of the trees. A few hundred yards ahead was a narrow river, more like a creek, with a small bridge built over it.The Vacationers ch.4 by =snurtz
"Well, that's comforting," said Zoe.
"Yeah, it's definitely nice to be out of the trees," said Blythe. "I was feeling like I might die in there."
"No, not getting out of the forest," Zoe said. "Look! There's a bridge over that river. That means that there are people nearby!"
"How far?"
"Do I look like I've been
| This is all stuff that I wrote myself. Please read, comment, enjoy! |
| I do requests on Elvish calligraphy (otherwise known as Tengwar). Info: [link] |
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