The choices we make
Dripping Creativitychoice made in anger cannot be undoneshort story for motherwoke up and chose violencewhen your mother doesn't
Their belongings had been taken to their room and Mary saw her chest on top of the bed in the right-hand corner.
“This looks nice,” Firlea was the first one that spoke.
“Yes, this is amazing,” Mary agreed and turned towards the unfamiliar woman. “Hello, I’m Mary and this is Firlea,” Mary said with a smile.
“Hi, I’m Hinat. It’s nice to meet you both,” the woman said. Mary would guess that she was around the same age as Mary. Her eyes looked like liquid gold, and she had rich warm sepia coloured skin. She was taller than both Mary and Firlea and lean. She was a beautiful woman, but what caught Mary’s interest the most was her black hair. It was braided into tiny braids that were creating intri
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