Deliverance by Nola Prevost

As I set my easel against the wall, my heart somersaults when I feel a gentle tug on my hair. Long blonde locks litter the tower floor, spilling over the window sill. Nothing else to indicate a visitor though. No hooves galloping in the distance, nor any piercing, beastly roars echoing in the night. Only silence couples the crackles of the fire. Nevertheless, the pull was unmistakable.

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Journaling Starto!

Hello all. The name of the blog post is pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll go a little more into detail. Journaling is something I’ve always wanted to actively engage in. It’s such a great way to keep a clear and focused mind while also keeping notes of your life. Unfortunately, it’s something I struggle with finding time to do every single day. I’m not saying I’m going to make a commitment to post on this blog every day with a new journaling entry, but I’m challenging myself to make at least two posts on the blog a week (Monday & Friday) for this (plus whatever other posts I come out with that week whether it be book reviews, throwback Thursday, a guest post, or writing). All of the prompts for this will come from Jo Franco’s website Joclub.world unless specifically stated otherwise in the post. If journaling is something you’re interested in starting, I encourage you to check out the website and follow the prompts! You can also submit your work in the form of a guest post if you feel confident enough to do so.

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Time

I keep my secrets to myself. Jumping, skipping, hopping all around, the knowing grin curling my chapped and cracked lips. Soft, melodic notes reverberate against my vocal cords; all is right in the world, but I know.

I know I can only keep the charade going for so long. What I release on those lined pages of the leather-bound notebook, tucked away beneath my pillows are far worse than the monsters under my bed.

Power

Note: This features topics of sexual child abuse and rape that may be triggering.

It was the small things that set off the memories; the tick, tick, ticking of the clock in the living room as the wooden pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth; the smell of peppermint gum on my friend’s breath, or of the candy cane I ate at Christmas; even the taste of the air in my house had vomit burning the back of my throat.

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Bookconline 2020

It’s upon us, everyone. Bookconline is HOURS away, and I am oh so excited. Every year that passes, I vow to attend the convention, but I never have time to. Life gets in the way. Last year it was school, the year before that I was working two jobs. This year we have a mass pandemic. Ironically enough, that’s the only reason I’m able to attend it this year, otherwise I’d be in Japan, watching everything from afar.

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