Gregor lifted the knife and slammed it down. The tops of the carrot rolled across the table, some hitting the floor. "What are you doing?" "I'm chopping carrots." "Gregor, they are carrots! not tree branches." "I fail to see the difference.
Karen HawkinsOnce ye made up yer mind to do somethin', 'tis better t'stumble o'er the small hillock of jump-ahead than t'bash yer head on the jagged rocks of did-nothing. Old Woman Nora of Loch Lomand to her three wee granddaughtersone cold evening
Karen HawkinsAs Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansion rose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality and craftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!” Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed, love. I would appreciate them all the more there.
Karen Hawkins