Por amor, a las letras, a los sueños y a esos trastos que nos hacemos llamar humanos, a los que siempre dedico mis palabras y a menudo corrijo con ellas...
On my way home, I stop at the park. I sit on a bench, feeling the warm breeze on my face, and watch the kids play. I smile, thinking about how swimming has shaped me, how it’s made me a better person.🏓Photography exhibition Best shots
🎛 With a whimsical storybook in your grasp, being misunderstood will never diminish the worth of your cherished aspirations. Each person perceives life through a unique lens, so remain faithful to your inner guidance and craft in silence, without seeking immediate applause from
🎃Microwave fixed It functions properly nowFollowing my midday meal, I lie down for a brief snooze, programming my alarm to go off in sixty minutes. I require some downtime so my body can recuperate from the exercise I did earlier in the day. Upon awakening, I do some stretching
A gentle wind swept across the park, bringing with it the fragrance of roses from the adjacent flower bed. Glancing to her side, Elara spotted a bunch of delicate pink blossoms flourishing beside a seat, their petals delicate and bright. She approached, lifting her camera to sna
🥉Pumpkin Soup. The pumpkin’s size was impressive. Intrigued by the trees, with their sturdy trunks and extended limbs, he chose to scale one. Digging his claws into the bark, he ascended with slow, deliberate movements, rising steadily toward the top.
She fills each cup with mint tea, drops in a fresh lemon slice for every one, and places them before them, remarking, 'It’s milder than Earl Grey, but so invigorating — just right for an afternoon this warm.'