pasfoto

Puellae

Laatst online: -

Ashley

Puellae is offline

-

25

-

-

lijst





B O O K S H E L F
Laat jouw leuke, mooie of ontroerende verhalen achter in mijn gastenboek
Ik zal ze op mijn boekenplank zetten











Sorry ik kom bijna niet meer online.


-

1 decennium geleden

7 jaar geleden

2 weken 4 dagen

8032 [24 uur]

3

1

1

2

1

79

331

9387

2290

3108



7 Creaties van Puellae

Gastenboek (127)

  • Miesmuizer

    HOI. Ik ben net begonnen met een nieuw verhaal. Soort van. Het is Engels en ik had opeens zin om zelf weer iets te schrijven, dus dat deed ik. Nou ben ik niet zo zeker van wat ik heb geschreven, ik weet het niet zo met de stijl en de lengte van de zinnen en de characters en zelfs de woordkeuze. Ik zou graag een soort review - nee niet dat, ik kan alleen niet op het woord komen - te krijgen over dit geheel. Door jou. Because I value your judgement. Trouwens, het eindigt wat abrupt en unsatisfying, maar dat komt omdat ik zo dom was om te stoppen terwijl ik nog inspiratie had, ik dacht dat ik het de volgende dag nog wel kon schrijven. Niet dus.

    It was raining. It was raining, and it definitely wasn't going to stop anytime soon. People were hastily running across the sidewalk, to get home as soon as possible. Only if you looked closely, through the abundance of umbrellas, raincoats, and the pouring rain, you could see a very hot-spirited Louis Tomlinson hailing for a cab while phoning a person who apparently really exasperated him. You could say that he definitely did not wear his most charming expression.

    ''No, no, no. I already told you we were not going to go through with the Spongegar socks, Payne,'' finally, a cab stopped next to him. The driver only rolled the window down slightly, so that the flowing water wouldn't damage the car. ''172 Hampton Rd, please.''

    ''As you wish,'' the cab driver said. It occured to Louis that his voice was very deep and gravelly and he could probably build houses on his voice. Stupid. Stupid voice.

    Louis shook his head to clear it from such weird thoughts (building houses on someone's voice, really?) settled on the seat behind the driver and put his briefcase next to him. His coat was wet and he actually kind of really wanted to cry, but he figured that crying could wait untill he got home. Home included a very caring Zayn (even if he wouldn't ever admit it) and hugs. Yes, crying at home would be far better than in a cab with an unknown driver. He didn't get much time to think this all through, since Liam and the cab driver started talking to him at the exact same moment.

    ''But it's such a brilliant idea - people are gonna love it! You, ugh, just stop being so damn pretentious, I know what my people want!'' Liam, who he first referred to as Payne, shrieked.

    ''I hope you're not too wet. Water's bloody cold.'' said the cab driver and wow, Louis had never heard someone who had this kind of slow voice. He could definitely win a slow voice price - if there was one, that is.

    ''I am not pretentious, nor am i acting like I am,'' Lies so easily left his tongue. ''I just don't want to produce Spongegar socks,'' he stopped looking out of the window (the dark, lackluster sky and constantly pouring rain only served to his bad mood) and went to look at the cabby. The only thing he could see was his long, brown curly hair. From the times he heard his voice, he guessed the man was about his age, but that was about it. Louis suddenly realised how he hadn't answered him at all, so he quickly replied with a ''I'm not too wet, thank you, it's just enough to make me want to die.''

    The cabby chuckled.

    7 jaar geleden
  • Puellae



    “The Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that’s not the one. When you meet your ‘soul mate’ you’ll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation.” — Unknown

    8 jaar geleden

Meld je gratis aan om ook reacties te kunnen plaatsen