Letting Life Lead
Dust assaulted. Two horses in braided, bit-less bridles hung head to hoof. Riders pulled brims low, bandanas high, and duster collars straight.
“You’re barkin’ at knots.”
The other dug, found the panel, placed her hand upon the biolock and said, “Balls out.”
playing by my own rules
We take the heat 'cause we gotta eat.
Liz's home for all things writing related.
I have no idea why I picked this blog name, but there's no turning back now
"Our subject isn't cool, but [s]he fakes it anyway."- The Offspring
Musings through the journey of writing my first novel
It is what it is and it too shall pass.