KellyE's profile

Schroedinger’s Cat I hate that damn box. Perhaps hate is too strong a word, my kind is above that sort of ugly feeling. But still, there it is. I spend most afternoons running away from the doctor, and that damnable box. It goes something like this: the doctor comes into the room, where I’m more often than not lying in that lovely warm patch on the carpet near the window. He looks right at me, and puts the box down on the floor. I see it and run. He chases me. I run some more. He sighs, goes ...

The Secret of My Success “Mr. Smith, your next appointment is here.” Bill only had time to glance at his watch and straighten his hair before the door opened and two strangers entered. The one with the camera started silently setting up bits and pieces of equipment, while the other, a young woman with curly blonde hair and a big grin sat down opposite him. “Good afternoon Mr. Smith, thank you for agreeing to this interview. Our readers will be delighted to learn more about you.” “I’m sorry, y...

The next couple of weeks passed by in a blur for Grace. Her sister and friend helped to make plans for her upcoming nuptials, but, while Grace participated in these activities with a seemingly improved disposition, her heart was not improved. She longed for a distraction, anything, however small, which would take her away from the interminable planning of her future by others, and which would throw her into the path of her desired destiny, one shared with... him. One evening, after a particul...

Jewel Listen reader, to my tale About a girl called Jewel; And all the things t’were done to her By her ‘friends’ at school. Despite her name this lonely girl Was very very plain; The only way she shined at all Was through her clever brain. She aced in math, excelled in French And did the best in art; She tried her best to befriend all (She had a great big heart). But sadly at poor Jewel’s school There was a girly mob, Who hated Jewel and all her skills To cause pain was their job. They start...

Later that day, Grace was sitting with her leg raised on a cushion on the footstool, when Fanny showed Emily into the parlour. She rushed over to Grace and threw her arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Dearest Grace, whatever have you done to yourself, my goodness you are in terrible shape, you look very ill indeed!” “Emily dearest, you are sweet, but don’t worry, it’s not serious, the doctor has been, my father called for him after breakfast, he has told me to keep my foot raised for a day ...