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Rose was born in a frozen land. She knew nothing but winter. To protect her from the cold, her body began covering itself with ice. It kept the small bits of warmth inside, and didn't let them out. Ice covered her skin in layers. Rose couldn't sense what she touched. It felt like her body belonged to someone else, someone cold and numb. Rose traveled through miles of icy lands, reaching out to things that looked warm. Flowers, birds, shiny stones. Rose was putting them into her frozen palms to see if it would warm them up. Bright colors, loud sounds, tasty foods looked warm, but didn't feel like it. Rose walked and walked, far ahead. Dark nights started to intertwine with days. She was in a new land. The snow drifts roze up to the sky and turned into clouds, soft like cotton blankets. The air was warm, yet something inside of Rose stayed cold. She couldn't walk anymore. Her legs collapsed. She layed, eyes closed. Under the eyelids was frosty darkness, deep like the polar night. Rose reached out trying to catch its endlessness in her palms. She begged to be rescued, to be warm. To find out what warmth even feels like. Then she sensed something. Rose opened her eyes. The Sun was looking at her. It was the first time she saw it. As if all the light of the world gathered in one place. Each of the rays embraced Rose. She felt the ice on her skin melting. She cried for the first time in her life. Rose could move again, even dance, like the butterfly that once visited her dreams. She could. But she didn't want to. Even when layers of ice melted, something inside of her stayed cold. As if some part of the winter still lived in her. Rose glanced up, through her tears and said: "Thank you, Sun. I wanted to feel warm and safe. I thought that when I would, all of the dark memories would melt away. I would forget and never feel cold again. But now, I want to keep them, even the painful ones. Maybe, one day I will become my own sun. And I will warm them up. I will shine on this part of me, no one else can reach, and give it love". Rose smiled. From the puddles of melted ices her reflection looked up at her. She had a crown of shiny beams around her head. *** P.S. First time posting. I'm overwhelmed and excited at the same time. Please, share your thoughts about the story! I'm ready for the feedback. And scared of it at the same time ;)

Lately I struggle to keep my mind quiet. The world is too loud for me to hear my own thoughts. My heart feels full and content, but it doesn't feel good when all I hear is how we live in scary times. How can I have a smile spread across my face when there is so much turmoil racing through the world? I have to hold it together because if I don't who will? Besides I am a wife and a mother who is family driven and I strive to be the best example that I can be for my children, who watch me and learn from my behaviors, reactions, and decisions. The last thing I want to do is affect them negatively. They are my inspiration to be who I am and my motivation to never give up. But I'm tired. Is that okay? I am tired of the constant division in the world and trying to make sense out of it for myself in a way that I can put it into words to help my children when they ask me why a kid said something to them that they shouldn't have. I am tired of adults acting like children and teaching their children morals that aren't necessary based off of their own feelings. I am tired of adults who discourage children instead of encouraging them and building them up. Where is the positivity? Where is the love? And what happened to the easiest verse to live by, "love each other as I have loved you." I am not a perfect parent or wife, but I do believe in the power of love. I am tired of trying to put things into perspective for my children of why some of us can't get along because we don't agree with politics, religion, or whatever else the media throws our way. When our children have an argument, we are quick to separate them and figure out a resolution and an apology, but for some of us adults, we can't seem to do that. There's too much pride and too much dismissal of the other person's opinion and point of view because it doesn't match our own. We are all entitled to our own beliefs and our own opinions, I get that, obviously I am voicing my own. All I am asking for the world to do is to stop pointing fingers and only seeing from one perspective, it doesn't matter what you support or who you support-that does not define who you are as a human being in my mind. We have all been told what we think or believe is wrong at some point, and that is okay. I like to smile at those things, because they threw stones at Jesus too, but he still loved them. We can too, it's as simple as that. Grace is always worth it.

I visited Little Rock's Allsopp Park which needs some serious mapping and directions to the "easy" trails. But stress fracture and all I hiked up and down again another route looking for something worth the risk and was pumped to find this "Fairy Tableau" Enjoy the magic!

I remember when I was a child – when I had wide eyes and wore white. I remember trying to capture butterflies as I twirled and danced my way through the flowers. I remember the scent of blossoms, and mildew, and the smell of dusk and taste of dawn. The warm embrace of sunshine cocooned me as I echoed my laughter throughout a world that opened its arms and caught me when I fell. Today, I can now reach the top shelf and think for myself. Cracked eyes leak wisdom, and hands shake with effort. I see you and the world. I see it broken as it is – destroyed and decaying as humans run across it like ants. The stars glitter through white smog, and a single hand can count the trees. The pavement grazes my knees when I fall, and no one's words mean more than a shallow step to get ahead in the game of life. I realise as I have grown older that age is just an allusion; adults' bicker like kids, and when they shout, they don't get reprimanded. An adult is only trying to survive and look alive in a society that aims to tear each other down. Growing up is not a matter of age, but rather a matter of perception. Adults pull roots from the soil, destroy homes to build factories, dump garbage in seas, and murder animals for the chase of the kill. Today the world is broken, and no one (not even the grown-ups) knows how to fix it. I remember the exact moment when I became a woman and no longer a girl. I was 13. I recall looking around and realising how destroyed everyone was: how people held up masks, played charades, fought in a game that only they were playing. At that moment, it was decided that a grand gesture was needed – something to force Earth back on its' axis. Things needed to be cared for, and others made to feel like they mattered. I aspired to make reality feel like a fairy tale. My heart only knows how we grew up believing in things made of wisps of words and imagination; a princess, dragons, a knight, and mermaids splashed deep beneath the sea. The real demons were the ones under our beds, not the ones in our heads nor lurking the streets. Are we all drugged? We have all cheated, lied, or stolen; committed a crime that is better if forgotten. In the end, are we our enemy? I know the only battle I am fighting is with myself. Still, I yearn for when I used to believe in a world filled with fair-folk and folklore; a world where saying hello to strangers on the street was okay. I did not know that by today, I would be shattered like glass sprawled in pieces across the floor. I know now that the world only makes sense when examined in parts. I am searching for something blind. What I know is that I want to live, to be alive, and to no longer survive - to be free in a world that follows strict sunrise and sunset. I need to feel the grass beneath my feet and the wind blowing in my hair like a summer breeze. I wish to return to the world of make-belief. I mourn for whispered words, lullabies, and fables. The sunshine is shrouded, and the acid rain falls; darkness has bled into my veins. Now flowers bloom with poison, and the butterflies have flown away. My dress is red, my steps stilted, and only the scent of decay persists. The land I once knew no longer exists, and I refuse this new one that has swallowed me whole. Instead, I squeeze my eyes shut until the horrors of today leak from my head. Please, I dream of sanity. To be insane in a mad world, now that isn't of myths and fairy-tales.

There once was a princess, in a land far away Who wasn't the youngest, she'd started going grey Her name was beautiful, though the rest of her less so Aurelia wasn't married- had never had a beau Her features weren't aweful, it was just her attitude Her face had grown sour, from being arrogant and rude Like other royal ladies, she had to wait for a prince Unfortunately, seeing her, made handsome princes wince The old king spent years trying to convince Posh princes such as John and Vince That his daughter was lovely and smelled of mints Petrified princes galloped off, yet the king took no hints The king couldn't wait to see Aurelia hitched In every town he visited, he made sure she was pitched As any young man's dreamy wife With whom they'd have a fabulous life He needed her to marry off well So he could live in luxury and dwell His old days in the castle, swimming in dough Thus he needed Aurelia to score a rich beau She was shown many a pretty polaroid Though no one seemed to fill the void The princess felt deep inside her heart Scrap that, in her every body part Despite the king's best efforts, nothing really paid off To every prince she met, she said “Do YOU know what I love? Horrible words, like ‘blast!', ‘poo', and ‘bum'” The princes ran and cried, “That's not why I've come I want a fair lady!” They stamped their feet and screamed That this mean princess Aurelia was not one they deemed A lady they'd take for tea along with their precious Mums “She looks as though she lives in the dirty slums,” One disgruntled prince yelled Want to know how Aurelia felt? Smiling, she shook her hair out over the balustrade And demanded the king arrange a date With the bum who lived out in the street She said, “That bum doesn't mind my smelly feet He doesn't care about wrinkles or grey strands He doesn't need Prim and Proper, or manicured hands This man likes me for who I am inside, Unlike those arrogant princes, for whom I have to hide My flaws and the profanities I daily use One broken fingernail and those princes would pop a fuse!” And so Aurelia married, the homeless guy next door The king was forced to move into their shack, all poor For there was a strict rule in their land A princess who doesn't accept a prince's hand From the castle, the royal family is banned A rule is a rule, no point taking a stand But for the very first time in his life He saw a smile on the bum's wife He'd never seen his daughter not look grim The light in her eyes was no longer dim! She was happy; she'd come alive Even though they now drank - not from crystal -in a dive They all lived happily ever after On tins of beans and laughter

The Princess & The Guy She Thought Was A Prince When I was a little girl I thought the world of my dad. I thought he was the best. He told me I was a princess, and that one day I'd meet a prince. And I believed him. Then I was in middle school and going through puberty I fell in love with a boy named Robbie. I thought he was my prince, and we were going to be married and high school sweethearts. Then I found out what a cheater is. I didn't date him. I don't even think he knew I existed, but when I told my best friend Taylor that I had a crush on him she filled me on his character. She said he was her boyfriend once upon a time, and that he cheated on her by kissing another girl! I wanted to stop liking him right then and there. I wanted to be that strong female character that didn't need to be in love, or have a boyfriend to feel important. Later after much heartbreak, I'd become her, but at the time I still wanted to be Robbie's girlfriend. So the next year when we had classes together, and the year after when we were still in some of the same classes I swooned over him day and night. Eventually, by what seemed like a miracle we got each other's numbers. I stayed up late into the night texting him and proclaiming my love for him. He had a girlfriend though. He told me he wasn't going to break up with her. When I found out I stopped texting him for a while, but then we just started our romantic texting affair up again. To be so young and in love, it's hard to say no to desire and what could be. From the age 12-16, I spent endless nights describing to Robbi how our lives would be if we 're together. But he never told me he loved me, and he told me his mother would never let him be with someone like me. Then as fate would have it I was getting ready for a school dance at my hairdressers. She asked me what lucky guy was taking me and I said, nobody. She asked me if there was anyone on my mind that I might hope would ask me to dance. In the back of my head, the only name I could think of was, “Robbi.” I said his name out loud. His full name. It felt so good to be able to say his name since for so long I felt I had to keep my feelings secret. Taylor had already stopped talking to me by now because of my persistent pursuit to be with him. Everyone who knew about our seemingly secret of texting each other over the years told me not to pursue him. Even guys I thought were Robbie's friends told he wasn't worth it… Anyways, I told my hairdresser and she enlightened me on basically why he was never going to be the man I wanted. Why he was never going to proclaim his love for me. She told me the story of his mother and father. You see Robbie's parents were divorced. I knew this already, but I never knew why. Once upon a time Robbie's mother and father were school sweethearts. His mother wasn't the overweight women who said didn't want us together. Once she was skinny and one of the most sought after girls in the school. His father married her, and they had twins. Robbie and his sister Elena. Then they had his other sister. But then something awful happened. Robbie's father cheated on his mother! He then left her and never spent another moment with his children. At this moment something just clicked inside me. All the years of trying to get Robbie to love me, but him telling me his mother would never allow it. All the times he told me had a girlfriend. The times he sent me just looks, but never actually spoke to me in public. It all made sense. He was broken inside. His mother was broken inside too and projecting her fear onto him. And in return, he refused to believe in us. It all made sense. It wasn't the fateful answer sent from the universe and told through the voice of my hairdresser that I wanted to hear, but it was the one I needed to hear. I didn't try to pursue Robbie after that. Many years later we reconnected on Facebook and I still haven't told him why I think he never asked me to be his girlfriend. Instead, we just chatted about how far our lives have come. I have a daughter named Love and he's off being a drummer in bands and traveling the world. He's had a lot of chances to declare his love for me, but I don't think he ever was in love with me, to be honest, and I don't think he ever will be. I have someone in my life now he didn't waste one second and still doesn't telling me how much he loves me every single day. He loves my daughter, and he can't wait to be married to me. I know I was young then and so was Robbie, but if he hasn't figured out how great I am by now he never will. And for that reason alone I'm glad we never dated and were not fated for each other forever. I'm at peace knowing that I'm loved and respected every single day. I wish him the best and anyone who finds themselves temporarily attached to him. This story is for all women and young women out there who have loved and lost. For it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. The End

Are you a dreamer? Can you put all your dreams into a single life and make them come true? There are far away dreams, like stars in the sky, but in the world of literature everything is possible. We can live thousands of lives in thousands of places and there is no such a power in the whole world that would be able to resist blue sky thinking. The secret of eternal youth is hidden in books. If you are ready to try out a deliciousness of imagination, stay with me and I will treat you to my fantasy. \nLet us start with the first course, which is fairy tales. I have chosen this one, as the first fantasy children are treated to. \\"Twelve month\\",\\"The Swan Princess\\", as well as Disney's \\"Snow White and the seven Dwarfs\\", and \\"The Sleeping Beauty\\" were my first experiences of fantasy. Through fairy tales children get in touch with the real world. Magic had a taste of hot chocolate and was as natural and real as bedtime stories. \nNext, try out the main course and the most important one. When we are young, life is varied in its treats, but you want to be careful, when you reach out your hand to take it, you can get chocolate or marmalade, but then you could also get the flavor of rotten eggs or bitterness; life is not all sweet. Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans is known as tricky sweets, but Harry Potter tasted them when he was eleven. The teenage time is a period, when we have no time to hesitate, no time to choose and just enjoy life with all its treats; it is a time to shine! Did you face \u2018dementors' and \u2018boggarts'? They take us aback, while we are trying out life. They are our despair and our fears; thanks to a defense against the dark arts I have fought them and now I keep living and do magic. My wand is my backbone. It is something you could not buy even in the \u2018Diagon Alley', it is an inborn gift, to do magic and it is important to remember, that all of us are \u2018wizards'. Thanks to \u2018Harry Potter' I have learned how to handle the wand since the age of eleven. \nWhat do you want to drink: tea, coffee, or the Universe? The Hatter and his company hold an endless tea party, while the time lord is travelling through time and space, but he always has time to have some tea. How do we use our time? Have you ever thought about it? Imagine all time and space in a cup of tea. No matter how much you have drunk, your cup is full. The opposite situation, when your cup is half-empty, but you have not even taken a gulp yet. These are the examples of how we are in charge of our time: we can plan or we can act. If you just flap you jaw, like Hatter's company you will drop the ball, and not touch the heights of your dream, you must run through your plans and then all the time and space will be at your service. When I was eighteen I tasted the Universe. \nDo you like spices? Any insipid course in our life needs to be dressed with spice. The lack of spices is the lack of emotions. Would you like to live through your previous day? If you are thinking about your day with distaste, it is time to experiment. What kind of taste has your life? I have been experimenting with the menu during my literature experience, so let me tell you what kind of cuisine the fantasy is. The battlefields pouring with dragon flame, the princess with skin of a frog, The Great Sept of Baelor stuffed with wild fire, enemies chopped by the Excalibur are the ingredients of a fantasy meal. If you feel like your life is missing \u2018spices', approach Terry Pratchett, Stephen King, George R.R. Martin, J. R. R. Tolkien, Lewis Carroll or Robert Louis Stevenson, to taste fantasy cuisine.