Read in a student paper today: “he had Ivies coming out if arms.”
–I rather think that could be interesting in a story, actually. It’s far more interested in the IVs he undoubtedly had.
Read in a student text today: “So, um, can’t make work today because my boyfriend came to purpose to me.”
–Purpose sounds quite dirty, doesn’t it? We also admired the tone, which was quite bland for getting purposed (or even proposed to).
Have a post on Magical Words today about comparing and despairing or inspiring.
He eyed the merti board. A frown creased his forehead and sat back up. For the second time that evening, a chill raised gooseflesh on his skin. In the pattern of play Yeron had made was an arrow made of opals pointing to the northeast.
Coincidence. It had to be. Or more likely, silverborn insanity.
Or maybe it was prophecy. The possibility skittered through Seavik’s mind. Then he shook himself, wincing at the lance of pain that ran through his belly. He swiped an impatient hand over the board. Stones clicked and rolled across the floor. Foolishness, he scoffed at himself and lumbered to his feet.
But as he retreated to his chambers, he wondered . . . .