Timing Is A Sensitive Thing.

I Binge Write. I Think It's Because I Started Seriously Writing By Participating In National Novel Writing Month, An Online-based Challenge To Write 50,000 Words In 30 Days.

Marco Moves To Close The Distance Between Them, Kissing Away Her Tears Before Catching Her Lip With His Own. As He Kisses Her, The Bonfire Glows Brighter. The Acrobats Catch The Light Perfectly As They Spin. The Entire Circus Sparkles, Dazzling Every Patron.

Celia, Wait,” Marco Says, Standing But Not Moving Closer To Her. “you Are Breaking My Heart. You Told Me Once That I Reminded You Of Your Father. That You Never Wanted To Suffer The Way Your Mother Did For Him, But You Are Doing Exactly That To Me. You Keep Leaving Me. You Leave Me Longing For You Again And Again When I Would Give Anything For You To Stay, And It Is Killing Me.” “it Has To Kill One Of Us,” Celia Says Quietly.

Unusual Yet Beautiful. Provocative While Remaining Elegant.

Sometimes I Write What I Can't Paint, And I Paint What I Can't Write. I Use A Different Part Of The Brain.