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The Whispering Grove
In a quaint village nestled between rolling hills, there stood a centuries-old oak tree at the heart of the Whispering Grove. Its gnarled branches stretched skyward, as if reaching for secrets whispered by the wind. The villagers believed that the tree held an ancient magic, a connection to the ethereal realm that granted the power of understanding the languages of nature.
Tuner and Hootch (1989)
Turner & Hooch" (1989) Creating an unlikely pair with Tom Hanks (Turner) and a slobbery lovable dog (Hootch). Their mismatched partnership sparks heartwarming chaos and unexpected bonds.
ColdHardCashPublished 8 months ago in CritiqueA title that should be unforgettable
Flash back to 2013 here I am walking the path in Santa Monica California looking out at the beach. Mind you I was at the part where there is a cliff and a railing blocking you from falling off. You have a nice vantage point of the whole beach, and a beautiful view of sunset from there. Walking in the direction of the pier, I noticed a book left on the top of the fence. Seeing nobody around, I grab the book and began to read.
Sarah urfferPublished 8 months ago in BookClubAnger and Hatred
The anger bubbles up inside of me, the hatred heats me to the core. My brain and body finally agree, something that hasn't happened before.
Rene PetersPublished 8 months ago in PoetsThe Lightkeeper's Daughter
The Lightkeeper’s Daughter It stood on the razor’s edge, surrounded by slick, jagged rocks and a tumultuous sea for almost two hundred and fifty years. Standing tall and cold at just shy of one-hundred-and-forty feet, the lighthouse had warned ships away from the stark, deadly coastline since the days of pirates and vast merchant schooners.
S. Elizabeth RansdellPublished 8 months ago in FictionAnthi's Neck
Between her head and her breasts lies her neck Where else would such a monument exist It ties her mind to her heart like a deck
Patrick M. OhanaPublished 8 months ago in PoetsSiren's Serenade
Amelia had always felt an inexplicable connection to the sea. As a child, she would sit on the weathered rocks of the shoreline, her gaze lost in the rhythmic dance of the waves. Her grandmother used to tell her tales of ancient legends, stories of mystical creatures who lured sailors with their hauntingly beautiful songs.
Cynthia B.Published 8 months ago in FictionSerendipity
Stroke of good luck Events occurring by chance Random occurrences bringing about happiness Episodes that are happy little coincidences
Mother CombsPublished 8 months ago in Poets