WHITE CLOUDS

Rosemary paused as her little heart beat rattled in her chest, one of her parents had awoken. Terrified her night feeds would be discovered she removing her tiny fingers from the packet. Clutching the two biscuits she had managed to snipe seconds before the creak of the kitchen door had stilled her she waited. There was nowhere to run in the tiny larder, stuck between a scolding and the door, Rosemary stayed close to the wall her tiny feet covered in flour. If she was caught in here there would be hell to pay, her father always insisted on ladylike behaviour and eating after dark was not one of them.

Carefully, Rosemary stepped closer to the door, listening to her parents through the crack while sucking the edge of the malt biscuit.

Unaware of listening ears Sarah sucked in her breath and turned on the kettle. Standing beside the sink she shook her head in annoyance. The news last night had predicted a roit and in the pit of her stomach Sarah felt physically sick. A man had died and again no one was taking responsibility. Everytime Peter, her husband left to parade the streets like a proud peacock she feared days like these. The people were angry and they had every right to be.

Peter wanted no talk of retribution or restitution, instead he preferred to ignore injustice. Together they listened to the live radio announcements following the terror happening on the streets. Reports continued to filter through the static as the people fought back.

While Sarahs blood boiled, Peter remained indifferent.

Laying awake in the dark Sarah willed herself to slept but sleep refused to come. There were houses burning, shops being looted and more innocent people injured. The call had come, no warnings just a shrill ring breaking through the middle of the night. Fumbling for the phone Peter answered with that new accent he had mastered; she knew it was no one she knew.

“Yes sir I will be right there.” Peter responded.

Watching Peter dress for work so calm and unaffected, the sight of him also begun to nauseate her. Why could he not see they were on the wrong side of the war.

Now standing in the kitchen bear foot she couldn’t hold the burning words at the edge of her tongue.

“This is wrong Peter and you know it. That man died on the street like a dog. How could you defend them.”

“I took an oath to serve and protect, Sarah.”

“What about your oath to me?”

Peter sighed, crossing the threshold he took a seat at the table. Avoiding the burning gaze boring into his soul Peter pushed his left foot into his work boot. Ever since he had joined the force he had a sense of pride the past had tried to bury.

“Did you hear me!” Sarah snapped impatiently. “These are our people.”

“Dont start that nonsense again, we made a choice.” Peter reminded her sternly.

“Peter we made choices out of nesscity, times have changed.”

Peter huffed, ” You really wanna go back to the slum.”

Sarah lowered her gaze, she hated when he spoke like that.

“I want to see my mother, she is getting old now.”

“I heard you Sarah but I don’t think you thought this through.” Peter said as his tied his laces neatly. “Your mother would rather you stay here I believe that with all my heart.” he added.

“Of course I have thought this through. This life is a dream Peter. A fantasy that can’t turn into a nightmare at any moment!.”

“Keep your voice down.” Peter snapped. “I will not have Rosemary upset tonight.”

Rubbing her swollen stomach unconsciously she hummed a few lullaby notes to sooth the tiny fumble of hands and feet. Sarah folded her arms across her growing belly and frown.

“I want to go home now, Peter. It’s time!” Sarah hissed.

Peter tilted his head to one side and stared at his wife intently. “I dont understand the sudden urge to return to a place that had never been good to us. Tell me what this is about?”

Sarah sighed heavily and moved away from the kitchen table, fumbling with the wet forks on the drainer.

“I just think we can go back home now that’s all.”

Peter stood and moved in her direcrion. Placing his hands around her waist he pulled her closer. Reluctantly Sarah relaxed in his arms and inhaled the scent of talcum powder and vaseline.

“Listen baby, we owe it to our children to give them the best life and this is it,” Peter sighed. ” Our children will have the best and attend the best schools. They will be educated and free to travel the entire world without restrictions. This is the best place for them.” He continued.

“Is it!” Sarah replied sadly. ” A life without family and a mother to scared to leave the house incase she puts a foot wrong.” Sobbing Sarah wiped her angry tears and said honestly, “I’m scared Peter, what if I say something, what if I say something.”

“You must not think that in that manner.”

Sarah shrugged, it had been six whole years since she had seen her mother and father or anyone who resembled family. Peter had become her everything and the house had become a beautiful birdcage. Trapped inside the confides of its walls with only herslf to talk too Sarah had slowly doubted her sanity. Now, she was with child again and she needed her mother more than ever. Stepping out of his warm embrace she took a seat.

“How do you do it?” She asked

“Do what?”

“Pretend..”

Kissing his teeth loudly Peter walked past his wife and exited the kitchen. Placing her palms upon the table Sarah examined every inch of her hands for traces of her truth but it never appeared. The red ruby blood that ran through her veins had been striped of her menalin and her pale skin a vision of whiteness that oppressed her blackness. The past didn’t matter as much as their future did. Everyday she thought of the life she was carrying and what if.

What if they wasn’t lucky this time. Rosemary had olive skin and pale green eyes. During the summer she had to be covered from head to foot or lathered in sun cream. Nothing was simple in the world they had created for themselves. No matter what Peter said, Sarah intended to go home.

Standing at the kicthen door Peter cursed her weakness. Life had become comfortable, a place of safety and warmth that they could never achieve on the other side. Here, in his world he was a man, equal to his counterparts. There he would be another face amid the unemployment line. Another broken man living in the belly of the beast and feeding of the scraps of another man’s table. There was no way on God’s green earth he would ever return home.

Rosemary placed the last of the biscuit in her mouth and suckled lightly as her eyes closed slowly.

Pushing back her chair Sarah took a deep breath.

“Peter, I know your behind the door I can see your shadow. I brought a ticket for all of us to back home, I’m trying of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m a black…..”

Peter stormed into the kitchen so fast Sarah stepped back and stumbled into the kitchen counter. Red with rage Peter flew into his wife and clutched her neck tightly.

Startled, Rosemary peered through the crack and gasped. Turning to the left Peter stared into his daughters eyes and released Sarah’s neck. Pushing open the door Rosemary padded across the kitchen floor and stared down at her mothers lifeless body.

“Mother.”

Sarahs eyes remained open, unblinking.

Looking at the damage he done Peter shook Sarahs shoulders but her eyes stayed the same, staring back accusingly. It was too late.

As the morning sun rose and the birds began to chirp outside, Rosemary stared out of the kitchen window. Following the plumes of grey smoke rising into the air she watched ad they tainted the clear white clouds in the sky. Looking down at her tanned skin her mothers words over and over in her head.

#IAMBLACK

#HERSTORY

© W O R D B E R R Y

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Do not reproduce in any shape or form…to be released shortly in print.
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PEACE AND LOVE

What kind of influence is this?
Children are canvases that paint their way to adulthood. As a parent I have already prided myself on raising strong, intelligent black men. So, here I was innocently trying to insight a meaningful picture and this is what I got!
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The instructions were simple, I followed them myself…
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“Put your two fingers up son.”
“Like this!”
“Yes son we going to take a peace picture.”
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He shrugs but eventually throws up his dueces….
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Snap.
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As I examine the picture and spot the mistake the words slipped out so easily …..”Oh shit.”
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Horrified my son said “Mum you swore!”
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臘‍♀️#mummymoments #swearjar
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How do you explain to a child that the picture you have just taken is a big FU instead of PEACE AND LOVE. We have to be vigilant in the influences we impart upon our children. I by no means encourage swearing but this is definitely a memory we will laugh at it years to come..
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Sidenote: Although, I realised to late we were saying FU instead of peace sometimes the haters need to hear it twice….✌#peace
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#Meandminime #peaceandlove  #snaps #photobombed #motherandson #roadtrip #outandabout #vlogging #blogging #writer #writes #amwriting

THE CANDY MAN

A meeting on the high road, or a face in the crowd

She thought of him often, she just never said the words out loud.

Close to her heart she kept his memory tuck away until a spontaneous stroll down memory lane.

Lost in a time where nothing was the same.

It had been years but she had never forgotten his face as she wondered down memory lane.


In her mind he was still the same


He was lollipops and lipgloss a taste sweeter than licorice etched in her brain.


Beautiful unforgotton moments retained inside

A lonely letter scattered with words from his hand


A reminder of the teenager before he became a man.


Although, lost in his memories she may stand


Forever in her heart he would live on, her Candy Man.

© W O R D B E R R Y
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LOVE and BE LOVED

When we are born we are a blank canvas, unblemished. Unclouded by prejudices and insecurties we begin life. We have no idea who or what we will become. Infact, our only certainty is death. As we develop we encompass all the societal structures and boundaries folding within the structure of your parenting, friendships and relationships.

Even though, we may not know it at the time of our birth the structure of life does not allow you to forget your mortality past a certain point. The older you get the deeper level of understanding the world and things around you brings to light your hindsight. The reflection of life and life choices become a list of things you should of, could of and would have done better.

It is true that even at your oldest age you are still or will still be learning. Tiny nuggets of knowledge still filtering through your mind and adapting your thoughts process. Personally, our knowledge is built upon year after year; We are never to old to learn new things. As we grow and become our own individual person we have the ability to shed our childhood influences, rectify mistakes and shapes your own views and the way how you see the world.

These days change is constant, being objective is paramount to functioning within a world that is ever changing. No matter what you thought before, educating yourself can enable you to see the world from another person perspective. Growing past your prejudices and insecurites will grow you mentally and spiritually.

Understand that tomorrow is not promised to no one!

Love and be Loved…

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EBONYS RUBY

They had said nothing since the money the car arrived. watching the buildings glide past they thought of the endless possibilities. Terrified Ruby silently wondered if this was the thing that would break her.

Sensinv her nervousness Ebony broke the heavy silence between  them and the rumbling engine. Thoughtfully she choose her words carefully, rubbing her sweaty palms together she cleared her throat.
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“They are not expecting this Ruby. It’snew for everybody.”
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Clutching Ebonys hand tight Ruby smiled.
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“I know it just so public!”

ebony winced and Ruby dropped her gaze, laltely she said all the wrong things. it was easy for Ebony, her life had been different.
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In a few minutes they would arrive at the event of the year, together. There was no turning back or retraction from the words they had whispered the night before. Ebony admired her blush beneath the shadow, nothing was more beautiful than her. Nausea rose to Rubys lips as the car cruised closer to their destination.
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“I’m scared Ebony, this is…” shaking her head hard, Ruby stared out of the window. “Different.”
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Ruby sighed, it had been most three years she wasn’t sure how much more disappointments she could take.
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“I understand if you want to do this on your own, but know I’m here for you.”
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As the car came to a stop outside the Finchley Hotel Ebony remained seated. Was she ready? Would this be the end tk their beUtiful union? None of the answers appeared.
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“What do you want to do?” Ruby asked quietly as she tried to tame the butterflies inside her stomach  fluttering uncontrollably
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“You ready for this!” Ebony asked
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Nodding faithfully Ruby stepped gracefully out of the car smiling at  the cameras flashing brightly in her face. Yesterday, she was just Ruby, a girl Ebony knew. Tonight she was somebody. Avoiding the intrusive lenses  Ruby rounded the limo and waited for the usher to open the door.
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Sliding out of the car Ebony stood six foot tall her slender body kissed by the dress she wore. Standing side by side they strode down the red carpet together.
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Pausing at the main entrance Ruby frowned. “We can’t do this.”
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Touching her left cheek with her fingertips Ebony whispered ” We can do anything together.”
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Looking into Ebony’s green eyes Ruby nodded. “I’m coming out.”

“Its time for the world to know.” Ebony continued.
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.© W O R D B E R R Y
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#ANXIETYANDME

There is often a moment of clarity but many moments of confusion in life. Don’t stress! the important things is not what happens, it is how you deal with it! Anxiety is a emotion you cannot control. as well as making it difficult to communicate with others and attend social events, anxiety can take over your entire life. One day you are the most popular person with a flurry of friends and in a split second you are a loner so introverted you forget how to accompany yourself.

Don’t fret, the wasy forawrd is within you! Staying aligned with sanity becomes a difficult task but it will get better. learning how to manange your anxiety is key to maintaining a healthy lifestyle.

Things you can do!

  1. Plan your day
  2. Avoid stressful situations
  3. Take time for yourself
Meditation

There are many different triggers and they are not the same for everyone. However, stress is a key element of anxiety and can be relieved in many ways. Using Yoga and Pilates to calm and re-center can be extremely helpful. This can also help Autistic children have calm moments and a peaceful sleep. Meditating is not about thinking, it is about clearing the mind and finding central peace. By allowing your mind to unclog you breathe space for fresh energy and positive thoughts.

Anxiety and me have been friends for a long time and she doesn’t want to leave. Finding methods of coping with her has been a long journey but we are finally getting along. I know that Life can be many things but all together the journey is beautiful!

Live for today and let tomorrow worry about itself ……

Live – Laugh – Love

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#INMEMORYOF1996

1996:
The nineties was the era of disposable #cameras and grainy pictures. Double exposure or floating blobs of light distorting faces.
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You would be lucky enough to get one clear shot.
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Gone was the illuminious coloured shell suits and accessories.
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#SaltnPepa had #revolutionised leather jackets and large hoops. #Envouge gave us something we could feel and #SWV made us Weak. #KrissKross  wore their clothes backwards and #Snoopdogg brought rompers to life.
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WHAT DO YOU LIKE MOST ABOUT THE #NINETIES?

Comment Below…

Jodeci

The musicial melodies of the nineties is what I loved the most.

#BACKINTHEDAY I went to #Jodeci concert, I can remember it like it was yesterday. The walkway between #Wembleypark and #Wembleyarena was packed with concert goers. To my horror my mother decided we should walk through the crowd even though, we were not going. I was so disappointed my bottom lip had fallen below sea level,  beleive me walking through the excited crowd was the last thing I wanted to do. When my mother handed me an envelope I didnt pay attention to her neat handwriting across the front. Instead, I almost ripped the envelope in half through fustration.
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Inside the envelope was TWO FRONT ROW TICKETS, seat one and two.
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#mamacamethrough
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I screamed and cried at the same time. #charlieandthechocolatefactory had nothing on me.
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After a few hours of #MaryJBlige and others it was time for Jodeci. I almost fainted when Devonte slowly pulled his pants halfway .
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This new project I am working on is called
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“In memory of 1996.”
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Playing old songs and watching old movies has enabled a re-education. #80sbaby #90sgirl..


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REPLAY:
#Music is a key part of life! There is nothing like a good #lovesong or  break up song. Back in the day all these female groups were #influential. #Creating a project combine with music draws on #emotions and #feelings while creating a #mood.
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Putting together a nineties #playlist to play while writing I forgot how many songs were unforgettable. I’m sure the #neighbours will be complaining about the noise tomorrow, but hey we only live once. #carpediem.
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So, in the spirit of the 90s Let’s play a #game..
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…LOOK AT THE LAST IMAGE CAN YOU TELL ME WHO SANG WHAT?
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A. Red-light Special
B. Hey Mr Dj
C. Weak
D. If you love me
E. Understanding
F. Kissing You
G. Let’s talk about Sex
H. Hold on
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ONE IS MISSING..NAME THAT GROUP..?
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© W O R D B E R R Y
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Q & A

Hey Guys and Dolls,

I made a post a while back #askmeanything and I received a few questions on my INSTAGRAM AND FACEBOOK STORY. Although this was some time ago it is never to late.

So , below are the answers you have been looking for!

If I have missed anything comment below….

1. Do you only write fiction?

For now, yes.

2. What’s your favorite book?

I cannot pick one it would be doing an injustice to the others, seriously.

3.How long have you been writing?

It feels like forever, but I really took it serious in year five when my teacher took great interest in my work. My teacher was determined to see me succeed advocating for advance curriculum.

4.What inspired you to write?

I loved reading from a young age and I fell in love with the characters in Roald Dahls extensive collection, before graduating to Judy Bloom and R. L. Stine. I guess I just wanted to create my own little worlds that black girls existed in. It was always apparent that none of the characters I read about lived in my world. When I was introduced to Rosa Guy I began searching for black narratives far and wide. Essentially my love of books inspired me to put bed to paper.

5.Do you know that there are very few black British writers?

As far as statistics are concerned there is a limit number of black writers and illustrators in the field. However, when you cast you eyes across instagram beneath the hashtag #blackbristhwriters more than a few pop up. There are many resources available via social media and Web outlets. Multiple #illustrators and #digitalartist fully capable of providing services required ate accessible.

There is a hashtag for everything

#editor

#publisher

…you get the drift..

#publishers

6. How do you make contact with other authors and publishers?

As a independent writer finding the right people and sourcing the correct services can be difficult. Do not fret, social media has a whole heap of options available to you.

It is important to forge relationships with like minded individuals. So, send a few messages to illustrators and editors you like or better yet click their links and complete your own research.

By sending a personal message you could potentially curate a productive relationship that can also be beneficial to both parties in terms of advice and support.

Disclamer: If you get no reply please do not badger anyone. ONE message is enough!

Also there are many loops on Instagram connecting likeminded people. Requirements to join are below in their description box, each look is different. Currently I am fascinapted with #blackwomenlooping.

@blkwomenlooping

7. Do You ever feel like giving up?

The independent publishing world is a lonely place. So, yes I have multiple times, but something always makes me go back to doing what I love. In someways it helps me stay sane. Don’t be put of by the fact you might be doing this alone. This should help you remain focused on your goal.

Thank you for reading #askmeanything

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WHEN MORNING COMES: SHORT STORY


The distinct sweet scent of her love still lingered upon his flesh as she peeled herself away.
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Morning had already broken through the night and a sunray danced across her stomach as she rose from the bed.
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There was no words, they had been her before.

Once he had begged her to remain, but she had already attempted to erase their time from her brain.
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Redressing slowly as she gathered up the pieces of her  discarded outfit he watched her every move.
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Later he would replay them in his head.
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“Stay.” He whispered aware she wouldn’t.
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Sighing deeply she replied expectantly “I can’t, I have to go.”
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Even though, he wanted to rise, hold her in his arms and beg her to stay; he did not move.
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Instead he remain rooted to the spot stuck in the moments before morning when she was his instead…
.

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© W O R D B E R R Y
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1996


Cara Jade had spent her entire summer conjuring a story of interest and turning herself into the ultimate girl. Soon she would be attending her new school and everyone wanted to know the new girl.
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Covered in cotton with barely space to see, she had no life, no story.
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Then she rememeber the popular girls takes, spoken under grey clouds. Cigarettes hanging from some lips as the others laughed really loud.
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Soon they were her stories of wonder and expeditions as she had gathered the pieces from memory and made her own.
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Walking through the doors all fresh and new she scoped out the cliques and the popular crews.
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Standing amongst the new crowd she relayed her stories convincingly  as they hung on every word.
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They were all fascinated by the little whore.
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In bed that night Cara slept triumphant she would rise to popularity. Only, the morning after she was faced with a silent solidarity. The picture she painted had tainted their veiw.
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How was they to know she had never been further than the bus stop and school?
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How was they to know she was full of niaviety?
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Although, shaded and shun she held her head high, saving her tears for the night.
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It would be years before she realised the story she had conjured had ruined her life.
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WORDS ARE POWERFUL BE CAREFUL OF THE THINGS YOU MANIFEST INTO YOUR LIVES AND OTHERS…
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BE YOURSELF EVERYONE ELSE IS TAKEN…..
.
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IN MEMORY OF 1996…
.

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