Reblogged from Ali Isaac in response to the photo prompt:
I never liked roses. They are over-blown and gaudy, just like the woman he ran off with; their scent cloying and sweet, like his shirt after he’d been with her; their thorns sharp and piercing, like the words we exchanged before he left.
My life fell apart then, like loose petals tugged by the wind. I drifted like fallen leaves tossed into life’s gutter. I saw myself in the winter trees, de-nuded, laid bare, stripped of youth and beauty…
Read the reat of Ali’s story at: Faded #writephoto | aliisaacstoryteller




























Ali is such a good writer – this take is exceptional.
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She is 🙂
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Thanks Sue… and thanks Noelle. 😚
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🙂
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