Olivia Berrier is often clueless and always shoeless. She tweets at @OliviaBerrier, rambles at her blog, and gets lost in her daydreams.
The poem formed under his fingers: dull, shallow, and utterly lacking in cadence. Navin frowned at the words as he examined them for any semblance of merit, but found none. He still didn’t know what his destiny was, but he… Continue Reading
Angels can only see in metaphors, and this fact tends to be as inconvenient for the Heavenly Hosts as it is for the people we try to help. Each Angel has a unique interpretation of the world. Mine is beaded… Continue Reading
Lisa drummed calm fingers on the soccer ball, blue eyes narrowed as she followed the players on the field. The orange team was in control now. Movement shifted to the left. Lisa tensed her legs, ready to run. The white… Continue Reading