© 2015 by Christine Klein  @ http://crafteweb1.myfreesites.net

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SHORT STORIES & POETRY
by Christine
http://www.thebarefootbutterfly.com/feed.xml

February 1, 2016

It was like every morning. The alarm clock next to his bed at the same spot his entire life. Folding up his puffy white duvet, which rustled with every movement. Raising himself up slowly. The back was not as flexible anymore as in his young years. Getting out of his b...

January 13, 2016

The sky changed had changed its colour. It had gone from morning misty grey to bright blue, infused with a few gleaming sun beams.

It almost hurt her eyes and she covered them with her hands, which hardly showed any sign of the past events.

Emma tried to pull down the...

December 17, 2015

It starts with me. Thats how she would begin.

She hated talking about herself. And being in the centre of attention was something she would rather avoid. She preferred the background. Being not visible, that was her favourite description if you would ask her about herse...

September 18, 2015

How could I want more?

Her back was sore and she wiped her face with the corner of her sleeve. For goodness sake how often had she done that . “I must be mad, totally mad!” she hissed to herself, while the big brown cardboard box was cutting into her waist. Ouch, one st...

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