LoveableLittleSock

Every day for the past two months, fifteen days, and 31 hours ; Wesley Jensen did the same thing at exactly five o’ clock P.M. when he closed down the ...

She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “It's almost sunset,” she said as the sun slowly started to melt behind her; turning the sky into a sweet citrus ...

He stalked into a room Carolina had come out of and slammed the door hard. It should be, "He stalked into THE room.." Snoinkifer. And that's pretty much all the ...

My first day of kindergarten, a kid with the toothiest smile I had ever seen in my life introduced himself to me. Er, that sentence is just a tad bit ...

Sorry for being so late! I remember reading this, but I suppose I never got around to critique it. Anyway, shall we begin? Twelve years since I last saw her. ...

Gr. Poems. Anyway... her words as frail as spider silk: Whoo-hoo!! Go similes! Learned to ride the breeze on delicate painted wings. I like the end to this poem, but, ...

Oh My God. First of all, this is a really big cliche. Second, you made it seem as it wasn't a large cliche because you did some an awesome job ...

It's just you and I in my car. "You and me." so don't worry too much about it. "to much about it." No lights are on in the house, they ...

and the first day of a term was a nightmare. This is Cameron/ [no space] Rebecca/ [no space] Tracey. ‘ I [d] Don’t know. Reading.’ After half a minute ,[no ...

to confront a small green demon that sat there, snarling [Get rid of snarling - it drags on the sentence] . I knew that if I waited for too long, ...

Ugh. I cannot crit poetry. What I can tell you though, is that I enjoyed the poem. Although when you first started it out, maybe you could have gone into ...

Shall we administer a Critique? Prologue “His blood pressure ['] s dropping, Doctor.” She’d had more that she could handle already tonight. What is that supposed to mean? Has she ...

Ha. That publisher was told. Let's get started! I hope my plea isn’t in vain. Please find enclosed a manuscript, written in blue crayon. I know your poem talks about ...

Saturday from six to nine, we’re all seven years old again. Aw! I love that line! “We” meaning myself , (Rachel) and my four best friends, Jamie, Darcie, Myra, and ...

And here I am with my third critique (second, really. The last one wasn't really a critique) they kiss me with their sticky lips, they cry in my hair. Put ...