I'm not even sure how I feel about a comment like this. Like, I get what you're trying to say, but there are definitely better ways of saying it...
seen from France

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from France
seen from Argentina
seen from France
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from South Africa

seen from Brazil
seen from Colombia
seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Germany
I'm not even sure how I feel about a comment like this. Like, I get what you're trying to say, but there are definitely better ways of saying it...
be respectful, review!
leave your favorite authors and/or stories a piece of your thoughts but pls keep in mind that ‘writing’ is a kind of art and therefore subjective.. try to be constructive and only talk for yourself!
You could give feedback to:
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Yet Untitled Fantasy Snippet (Part 1 of ???)
The day everything changed, the drum of rain and the smell of ink filled our little shop. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Rain had been pouring relentlessly for weeks - today was no different.
I did not know it then but I should have memorized the look of the old wood shelves, the hundreds of maps stacked upon them, the big windows streaked with rain.
The last few weeks had been quiet, the storms halted sailors and overland travelers and the shop had seen less than a dozen patrons in that time.
I sigh to myself and smooth out the map in front of me, our bestseller - a map of Port Well, with tidy sailing routes projected into the sea - and one I’ve examined a thousand times while waiting for customers .
A bell tinkles and the door creaks open. I look up from the map expecting a soggy sailor or a well dressed businessman.
Instead I am met by a thoroughly soaked Warren.
A smile spreads across my face faster than I can suppress. “Home already?”
“No, I just thought I’d drop in real quick from our 300 mile voyage.” He flashes a playful grin, but something behind it looks hurt. “Storms off the coast of The East Isles kept us from taking port, we turned around before I could even see the land.”
Warren is my father’s apprentice but also his right hand man and most trusted surveyor. Three weeks ago he was sent out on an assignment to The Isle, but he wasn’t supposed to return for months. To me his sudden appearance is a welcome surprise, to him it is a failed mission and a map left unmade.
“I’m sorry.” I lower my eyes back to the map below me, they linger on his signature, sitting neatly in a corner.
“There’s work to catch up on, anyway.” He slips into the room behind me and disappears into the workshop.
Again I am alone in the silence of the shop. Minutes pass, maybe hours, without disruption.
Until the bell rings. And again my expectations of a customer are disappointed. Instead a woman saunters in. A black cloak has shielded her from the downpour and now obscures her face. She is tall and her height is accentuated by immaculately laced black boots, rising over tight, dark slacks.
She disrupts my silent observation with an annoyed huff. “Hello?”
“Oh - sorry, sorry.” I sputter. “Is there something I can help you with?”
She lifts her chin, in the dim of the rainy shop her eyes look violet. “I need a map of the Eastern Territory.”
It is everything I can do to not stare at her in bewilderment. “Our inland maps run a high price, but The Eastern Territory is hardly mapped at all. Our collection - “
“I know this shop has some of the only maps of the Eastern. I want the most detailed one you have.”
I open my mouth to protest once more but suddenly my jaw goes rigid. Every muscle in my body tenses like I’ve been plunged into a frozen sea.
She speaks again, her dark eyes boring into mine “Isabelle Williams give me your most detailed map of The Eastern Territory.”
My feet move beyond my command. My heart thunders. I will myself to scream but my tongue is limp, my lips are frozen shut.
I open the door to the workshop. Warren is still seated and deeply focussed on the map in front of him. He barely looks up as I walk in. I try to look at him, to wave my arms, to shout his name, but I am trapped inside myself. Already my hands are on the ring of keys hanging from the corner of his desk; already, I am on my toes, reaching to open the top most cabinet. I pick up a roll of parchment and carefully pack it in a travelling case. Before I can register, I am handing the case to Tatiana.
“I’ll take that one as well.” She points to the worn map on the counter. My hands pack it away and hand it over.
“Thank you so much, my dear.” She leaves the shop with a smile that is sickly, sweet.
As the door shuts my knees slam to the floor. “Warren!”
Kpop is the worst. I love LOONA so much and I want my babies to be successful but it's not in my hands 😭💔
Your Hobbies
Hi, Im just setting up this blog when i can find the time.
it covers a wide spectrum of interests and hobbies you have one to chat about, interest others then let me know my tastes are open and i like to hear from others.
i even do custom motorcycles to pass the time and show off to others
thanks
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Do This One Thing to be Constructive Everyday
Do This One Thing to be Constructive Everyday
One area I tend to spend a significant amount of time focusing is productivity. I pay such close attention to time management, it’s almost a fault! Productivity “hacks,” as you might call them, really interest me. They’re fascinating! I’m always looking for a way to cut down on wasted time – to chop out anything unnecessary, inefficient, or redundant. As such, I tend to write quite a bit on…
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