Third person narratives
A custard pie in the face A monologue in the smokey haze A jazz-fueled stupor An almost religious fervour A puppet held by its strings Who knows what tomorrow brings Because it is a vaudeville life. A custard pie in the face There is nothing as truly terrifying to
Arbit
The Inner Voice A new realisation- you know that inner voice that sounds out all the words you read in daily life? Lately, mine has a French accent. Especially with words like passage (puh-sahge), orange (or-hange) and message (meh-sahge). Comment allez-vous, ma cherie? (Koh-month ah-
Third person narratives
The first droplets of water splattered the dusty ground. The smell of the first rains lay heavy in the air around as the heavens showered their blessings on the parched earth. In one of the innumerable apartment complexes of a grimy city far removed from the mundane pleasures of life,