LizCorley > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

She waits for a train when she can do nothing else.

How Cinderella might have felt while wearing her glass slippers.

I catch the red iron dawn just as it fades away into morning. The golden globe of light rises over the fields that I call home. The inva..

The tiles aren't arranged correctly. There's a smudge on the mirror. The pictures don't run parallel to the floor. There's one painting mistake on..

Most would think that because You are cold, that You are bitter and unwelcoming. However, I know different. You are not all of those things, exce..

The touch of your lips to my face makes me tremble so vulnerably. The sharp claws of your hand run along my pale, thin, neck; my pulse jumping er..

LizCorley Writing