Where I looked, I found solace. Don't look at it anymore, it's time to let go. So I surrendered to a woman-river's embrace. Hemlock juice across the river blue, a bittersweet journey. I am blue-throated; Duel flaps its wings, a dance of fate. Let's go through the umbilical cord of the sea, And emerge on the other side, renewed. Yet in the chest of this duel, The morning stars shine, guiding us. Two beaches in one horizon, a duality of existence. On the beach of waiting silence, Crying dreams of dawn seek another shore.
Life is a canvas waiting for a unique brushstroke, a journey filled with twists, turns, and moments that define your resilience. Life is interesting. The person who was jumping in front of you and playing with you yesterday may not be around tomorrow. I didn't think about such things before, because I didn't want to, but life forces us to realize these concepts. On the ceaseless snowy day of December 18. 2023 our bustling preparation for my mother's birthday added an extra layer of anticipation to the atmosphere. We were all happy and having fun celebrating my mother's birthday with my family. Only my brother had not yet come and we were all eagerly waiting for my brother. Suddenly, the distressing news we received on that fateful day plunged us into a collective state of shock, transforming what was meant to be a joyous celebration into an unexpected period of mourning. I got a call from my brother's phone saying that my brother was brought to the hospital in a serious condition and there was a strong possibility of death. For me, that day was a massive blow and no comfort could ease it. Once a week before, this incident happened, my brother and I had a big fight. And even without knowing it, I looked at him and said:" It would be better if you were not in our lives, you were created only to harm us. I wish you would die sooner." Each utterance I directed towards him in a tone of reproach reverberated so loudly within the confines of my mind that I found myself grappling with the challenge of justifying and consoling my troubled conscience. Around 2 a.m. in the morning, my brother was taken to a major surgery. My parents and I begged God at night not to take my brother's life and return him to us. At that time, my mother's struggles weighed heavily on my heart. . All my mother's prayers to God were very touching, even my heart was broken. At that time, I truly came to believe in the profound difficulty of being a mother. Around 5a.m my brother left this world. Darkness enveloped my vision, leaving me uncertain about what steps to take or what the future holds. My mother's cry resounded so painfully throughout the hospital that no one didn't cry. My parents, even I couldn't say a word that day. I couldn't wish such intense pain, such profound loss, even upon my enemy. In the following days, I realized that simple tasks became arduous, and the weight of loss pressed heavily on my shoulders. Amid these dark times, I sought solace in memories of happy times spent with my brother. One day, I stumbled upon a box filled with mementos from our happiest days. Photographs are frozen in time, capturing smiles, silliness, and the essence of our unbreakable bond. Each picture told a story, a testament to the love and joy we shared. In solitude, I began to discover myself through these memories. I found strength in the love we had for each other and gradually the pain started to subside. While the ache of loss never completely faded, I learned to navigate the world without my brother physically by my side. I carried his spirit with me, finding comfort in the knowledge that the happy times we shared would forever be a part of me. After this incident, I made a conscious effort to treat everyone in my life with equal kindness, learning from my mistake with my brother. Recognizing the fragility of life, I began to invest more time in my family and express my love and appreciation more frequently. Discussing this matter and recalling the circumstances from that time is a challenging task for me. However, such is life. It presents us with numerous highs and lows and we should brace ourselves for each. In sharing this story, my sincere intention is for you to value your dear ones and express your love to them regularly, because, in the end, they might not be with you tomorrow.
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I've always attached part of my existence to the capacity of writing. Even before I understood that putting different letters together would create words, I would already express myself with colored pencils and white paper. Apart from my sisters, I was not drawing, I was scrapping letters that I saw in my mother's big teacher's books. Growing up, I took a long time to master the spoken language, but I learned how to read and write precociously: at 4 years old. Before I completed my first decade of life, the habit of writing was so mine that the warmth of the words written with my tilted calligraphy on straight lines was strong enough to warm me. And this feeling was so strong and reciprocal that I would write every night before sleeping and consistently, with no exception, I would let a notebook under my pillow. On the attendance list of my bed, there were only three students: me, the notebook, and the pencil. In the future, I am no longer writing my last words before I sleep. At this moment, I'm waiting for the words of a doctor, who reviews, for the last time, what he is going to tell me: the lump in my dominant forearm is a tumor. The words are not necessarily awkward, the doctor probably had told them about a thousand times; they are, however, different for my ears. I start to laugh because I don't know how to react when he tells me that it is rare. Well, winning the lottery is also rare, but that is not the rarity I got. When I leave the clinic, everything in my life goes so fast that it felt like every day was a movie, but I would only watch the trailers, numbed enough not to live any experience. So many things went through my mind non-stop. Sometimes, when I get bad news, everything stops for a second until it gets back to normal speed. I always wish that this moment would last longer, not seconds, but days; which is impossible. Life goes on. Some yet-to-be-introduced character in your life is working at the moment. Some left-too-early character in your life is taking a pet for a walk. Some never-will-be-known character is also receiving bad news and is also wishing time would stop. For this character, time also did not stop. I was not wronged for cutting my frustration short - if anything, this was the reinforcement of my humanity. One day before my surgery, I write my last words in the notebook. It is a farewell letter. I don't know if I am coming back. I don't know if I am coming back horribly limited. I also write my last letter addressed to my grandmother. She died from cancer before I was born, so I never got to meet her. She could not read or write. I always believed I was writing for both me and her. I apologize. I probably am going to lose the last link I have between us. And I am sorry for my father, that will lose in me the last living thing that could remind her mother. Every word she could pronounce I wrote in notebooks spread by the house. At least, that's what he told me. I get into surgery. I thought - and this is something that did not quite change from the past to the present - so ironic that the hand that allowed me to write all my dreams in the format of a poem and all my fears like long proses was, also, the hand that could lose its movements due to a cluster of inconvenient cells that were pressing my tendon. After arriving home, the post-operation pain already was making me feel like the surgery was being performed with me wide awake. I was advised to take sleeping pills. But I did not sleep as fast as it was promised. On the attendance list, the notebook and the pencil did not confirm their presence on my bed. The impossibility of writing about the storm of feelings, fears, and insecurities made me feel everything even more intensely. The lack of the noise of the pencil touching the paper was as if every television, every radio, and every sound machine in the world was turned off at the same time. And I think about Paulo Freire, patron of Brazilian education, and I know his work on “Pedagogy of the Oppressed” does not refer exactly to it, but I feel in a pedagogical oppression scenario. The problem is that the oppressor is my body, and so is the oppressed. No one from my family walks into my room, they don't knock and don't even make any noise. Nobody including a part of mine, who is watchful on the other side of the door, waiting to get in when everything is alright. Which takes some time. Between frustrated attempts of writing with my left hand and tears over the fear of never writing again, this is the very first night I sleep without the notebook under my pillow.
Hi everyone, I'm Sraavani! I'm a highschool attending, academically overachieving, music loving writer with a huge interest in the sciences. I'm also a HUGE fan of Shakespeare and One Direction, and would love to rant for hours about either. Hit me up with a text! I'm always happy to chat 🙂
Thanks to God! Thanks to my parents who teach me to do great works in this short life. My poem is published in International antalogy in America 🇺🇸 under the name of "Talented voices of Uzbekistan" and sited in amazon.com and put to sale in 26 countries. I am so glad about this news. Just amazing situation. My poem travelled to my favorite dream country before me. I will also travel soon, of course. May be you want to read it... Save me, God. I was born with hope in my pure eyes Grew up and saw spring more or less. What I did in this illusory World Save me from sinfulness ,oh, my dear God Doing big or small sin is just define, And I abandoned you in my merry time. But I asked you help, sinking in grime, Forgive me, your sinful slave, oh, my God. Life is beautiful with me, I got it, For filling my life with happy event. For doing a lot of worthwhile good deeds, Always protect me,oh, my kind God. I will obviously take the top of science, My attempts show this, my prays define. I never surrender, victory is mine, Encourage me in this long way, oh my God. His hands are harsh, his hair is white, Still works in daylight or during the night. Because he tries to make my life light, Preserve my father, I beg you, oh, my God. Wrinkly faced,her kerchief fits well on her head, Her love likes fount, her love never end. Even sacrifices her soul to her kids, Protect my heavenly mother, oh my God. Being capacity isn't my ambition , My nation will know me. This is my intention. Readers love my poems as Zulfiya's word, Support my every work ,oh, my dear God. My alone request, my sole plead, This five days life is going to end. When it will measured my sin and good deed, Brighten my face in front of you, God. There are defects,I know. But it is written with sorrow in my heart. Anyway, I tried to express my difficulties, especially, parents' challenges on the way to my happiness. So it was hard to me express it with words, truly, I am weak to do this.
Whatʼs your purpose in life? I still remember that event caused me to muse about this question deeply and to find the answer to it. The 16th of March. In the morning we didnʼt go to school. Bad news was being announced about the enterance of Coronavirus in Uzbekistan. Before we were banned to only celebrate holidays , but now we had to stay at home. Online lessons began but both teachers and pupils were not ready and their knowledge about social networks was too poor: Internet speed was very slow, few pupils participate and lessons were plain-vanilla: teachers gave questions and we wrote answers. Even so I thought I could feel the real diseaster of this illness when it entered in our village and especially, examined me with my beloved people. My dearest person, second mother – my granny was infected with Coronavirus. I was shocked because a thing I was mostly afraid had happened. She was taken to the hospital but I couldnʼt go, any family members also. At that moment the only reason calmed a bit was that my uncle who worked as a doctor was with her. I gave the same questions to myself again and again: When? How? Two days passed. Each time whan I asked my father how She was he didnʼt reply. " The virus progresses hard in old humans. Currently, the only hope is from Allah" - I cried when my mom told me doctors' conclusion. Uncle brought granny to home. Still she was breathing hard. He tried to put on oxygen mask on her mouth but she refused it, nobody persuaded her and also didnʼt take any medicine and just said "Anyhow, I donʼt want". Tears in my eyes I begged "Please, do something, uncle". Actually, I had already comprehended why she was doing like that. Maybe she would be very happy to die. Being happy to die so strange theory at first sight. However every patient who are fighting against a serious illness need bizarre courage. In old age your body becomes weak itʼs quite difficult to find this courage. Also she was left on the shore with the waves washing over her, unable to drown The next day everyone woke up except my angel granny- could She sleep inwardly? I was depressed. Itʼs so tough when you are seeing that your loved one is dying but canʼt do anything, itʼs pretty hard when you canʼt huge him or her for the last time, itʼs challenging when you know that you wonʼt be able to hear their voice anymore. After several weeks I could smell a sweet aroma of something while I was tidying the room." Grannyʼs flowers had spouted" I mumbled and went outside. These flowers' perfume is unique and fascinating thatʼs why every year in spring nearly all neighbours and relatives used to visit to pick up them. For this reason I had named them " Grannyʼs flower". She always said " We all die, our bad or good name stay afrer us". She died but her name is alive in her flowers or in people's memory who have smelled her flowers and in her words said to me. My grannyʼs death taught me to live my best life today and to be strong and that everything is temporary and doesnʼt become as we want. I was going to resemble my granny and I kind of reached my goal . In quarantine in a district near us a heavy rain and flooding took place, as a result population's homes ruined and stayed under the water. Because pandemic it was more difficult to help them. I decided to help them in spite of far distance. I posted challenge with headline "Dear compatriots, you are not alone! We are with you!". Soon many individuals commented and suppoted them. After that around the country the old, adults, children shared own stuff, clothes, toys, food with them. That occasion gave belief to me. Then I started my action online. Firsty, I prepared quiz and puzzles to make lessons more funny. Later I organised online competitions and gathered thousands of youth around me. Coronavirus wonʼt disappear, it will continue but canʼt appall us who are experienced now like before. Years ago, there wasnʼt a cure for flu, smallpox and whatnot thatʼs simple presently, this one will be too. Thereʼs one good thing in a bad one. Pandemic united the whole world together and on account of it humanity realised that they werenʼt be able to beat the virus lonely. I prefer to recall the period of COVID-19 with good aspects. We didnʼt know that Coronavirus would come and cause millions of people's death. And we donʼt know what will happen after a minute. Majority wait the arrival of time yet you are not able to guarantee you will wake up tomorrow . So today live your best life. I trust I found my true self by Coronavirus.
Busy streets. Deafening sounds of vehicle horns. The irresistible aroma of Kwek-kwek, Fishball, and other Filipino street foods. And the wide smiles of the students every after class. I can still vividly remember how an everyday school dismissal looks like. It was worthwhile. Not until one day, everything changed in a blink of an eye. An unprecedented crisis entered and interrupted our lives, the COVID-19 pandemic. No one expected it. No one was ready. No one thought it would happen. We were all stuck in our homes because of the mandatory health protocols implemented worldwide. It affected our daily living big time. Routines were forcibly changed. Schools and workplaces were closed. Businesses were shut down. Most people lost their jobs. It was just a matter of survival. It was something terribly different. Full of adjustments and hardships. It felt like imprisonment, not having the freedom to do things you used to do. Just like how a face mask covers half of our faces as it serves as a wall of protection from the virus. This pandemic has been a barrier for easy communication and physical interaction. Needless to say, the transition from the normal world to the situation we are in today was challenging and crucial. I should say losing a loved one is difficult, but it's even more so in our situation today. I lost a good friend, a dedicated educator, and a selfless grandmother on the verge of this pandemic. We were not able to see them for the last time because of the prohibitions from the health department. It was something unwanted and was just a result of having no choice. I fought something bigger than the virus in this pandemic. I suffered from anxiety. I was not used to not having good grades after good grades, medals after medals and praises after praises. I dwelled on my insecurities and flaws. I felt like the odds were never in my favor. Slowly, every morning felt like I just needed to survive a day and I'm done. That I'm just a living organism wanting to escape the harsh realities of the world. That time was one of the moments I wish I were a kid again. That I'll just play minecraft or watch Barbie: The Princess charm school to ease the pain away. I started to question God because of the tragedies that have happened in my life. But after days of being empty and nights full of tears. I realized something. What are the chances of a person living in a city with existing local transmission and rising cases day by day to be Covid-free for almost 2 years. What are the chances of a person to be privileged enough to eat three times a day, have a family to be with through all these, and be able to study despite this pandemic? What are the chances of a person to be able to breathe fresh air rather than inhaling from an incubator? To be alive and kicking today is already a precious gift. The moment I accepted my imperfections, my flaws and my whole being, I began to see life in a bigger, better and brighter picture. I've come to the point where I continuously embrace not just my strengths, but also my weaknesses. I decided to feel human again by not letting my expectations and my thoughts define who I am. I chose to live without regrets, just gratitude. I always wondered about the things that I can do and how I can achieve those things. I explored myself. I bonded with my family more. As a matter of fact, we'd watch Netflix movies every friday night! I learned to check up on my friends and chat with them every once in a while. I started to play different musical instruments passionately. Those instruments include the harp, the kalimba and my favorite, the piano. Because of that, I became our church's pianist and safe to say, I have improved my people skills. Though face-to-face classes and interactions were banned, I found a way to enlarge my environment. I connected with people through joining online youth organizations. I should say my birthday this year is the best. Instead of having a glamorous party, I chose to celebrate it with street children, and it was fun! To satisfy my love for literature, I participated in writing webinars and joined international writing competitions like this! Fortunately, I won an outstanding position over 1500 participants in the International Creative Writing Competition organized by India. Sometimes, we forget to appreciate the beauty of life because we focus on our downfalls and shortcomings. There are still so many things to be grateful for. Look around and see what the universe can offer. Use it to your advantage, for you to grow and to be the best version of yourself. Always strive to get better each day, even if you're not in the best situation and in the best circumstance. Never let any catastrophe, even this pandemic, ruin the person you were, the person you are and the person you will be. Find your sanctuary of peace in a chaotic world. There will always be light in the darkness.
In the scorching summer temperatures, Look for Me Under the Rainbow eBook price is melting! The story of Danny, a curious seal pup with soft white fur and black innocent eyes, and Helen, an environmentalist and the Rainbow Warriors activist on a mission to save animals, is at a discounted price on Amazon. Its normal price is $2.99 and during this week it is only $0.99! Monday, July 26, 2021, 8:00 AM PDT through Monday, August 2, 2021, 12:00 AM PDT First read an excerpt: The other seals had traveled quite a distance, but Danny still stood on the edge of the ice floe, staring at the landscape he became so fond of in his brief life. He loved the icebergs, the sea, the ice floe where he and Jon played hide-and-seek. And he'd never forget the moment he laid his eyes on her—the human female. Overwhelmed by the memories of the past weeks, he held back. They made it hard for him to decide to embark on the long migration. Though the call of his homeland was equally powerful, if Jon had not asked in a gentle voice, “Shall we go, Danny?” he was sure he would have stayed. Leaving them to wander this icebound world and beautiful sea for a year, while they waited for their group to return. Then download your Look for Me Under the Rainbow eBook here. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07C7JGMNG/ If you prefer a paperback, you can get it here. https://www.amazon.com/dp/9535958135/ “The worldbuilding and descriptions are basically spectacular . . . I became lost in the icy world the author created.”—J.C. Gallo, author of The Shadowverse and The Shadowverse: Vengeance Don't forget to check out and read my other books: Cruel Summer, January River, and A World Without Color. Happy reading and thank you! BJ Subscribe to my mailing list. Follow me on Twitter. Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/look-for-me-under-the-rainbow-discount
It is here: a new opportunity to get January River, a literary fiction coming-of-age story, at a 67% discounted price. Your perfect summer read for only $0.99! Friday, June 18, 2021, 8:00 AM PDT through Friday, June 25, 2021, 12:00 AM PDT First read an excerpt: In the still air, the river flowed quietly. Steadily. Innocently. Nothing about it had changed as if nothing happened. Effortlessly and seemingly without concern, the river continued to give life to all around it. But also taking it. . . . Ethan watched the river and felt as though the river also observed him. Two silent witnesses, side by side again after so much time. Ethan had often wondered what this moment would be like. Would he find the river repelling, disgusting even, carried by the ravages of time and pressured by anxiety heavy as storm clouds? Or would it be seductive like it had been long ago when he was still a child? Removing the rest of his clothes, he stood on the sand along the riverbank. The sunbeams warmed his naked body—a body weakened and slimmed by an avalanche of past events. He walked into the cold water up to his knees and shuddered. Almost icy. Or was he too hot after basking in the sun? He barely hesitated before plunging in. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. Love between the river and him could not dissipate that easily. As he swam, he wondered if this love would ever dissolve. Would another separation be even harder than the last? Then download January River eBook here. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086LJJC8V “January River is a wonderfully introverted novel that would be ideal for reading, I think, particularly on long hot summer days. I enjoyed spending time with the McCoy family and their friends and found myself left with a wistfully nostalgic view of their lives (despite their misfortunes) at the end. This novel isn't one for action fans, but readers who like character-driven recent history novels should give January River a try.”—Stephanie Jane, author of Finally a Vegan: My Journey to Veganuary and Beyond and reviewer for Literary Flits book blog Don't forget to check out and read my other books: Cruel Summer, Look for Me Under the Rainbow and A World Without Color. Happy reading and thank you! BJ Subscribe to my mailing list. Follow me on Twitter. Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/january-river-summer-discount
Having spent over three decades on this planet, I have come to several realizations. The chief being that 'LIFE IS DIFFICULT' and it is meant to be difficult. The earlier you realize this fact and learn to live with, the easier it gets to manage certain shocking events. Be ready to handle disappointments, because before this journey is over, you will be disappointed several times. Be ready to handle betrayals because you will be betrayed many times, and you might also betray others. Get ready to handle loss because, you will lose friends and loved ones, and I don't mean they will go missing or stop being your friends(those are also possibilities) but in this case, I mean they will die and you will weep for them. Be ready for heartbreaks because your heart will be broken, may be, more than once and you'll probably break some hearts yourself. Get ready for pleasant surprises because you will get quite a few. Get ready for joy and laughter because you will also have those in abundance. Get ready for opportunities because they will come and some only once, and you will regret it if you let them pass. So take life as it comes with your shock absorbers in place. Cry when the tears come, laugh the hardest when laughter presents itself. Love like it is your last day(it may very well be) and take as many pictures as you can. Tell and show your kids you love them at every opportunity. Kiss your spouse, talk to your family, tell your parents you appreciate them. Take that dance class, run that marathon, go on that hike, live ! just live!. Forgive that person who hurt you, that may be your only opportunity to do so, repair as much breaches as you can. For as difficult as life may be, numerous are the joys to be found and had there in, if only we can truly look.
Arthur Sulzberg Jr. once said, “Newspapers cannot be defined by the second word—paper. They've got to be defined by the first word—news.” These days GenZ (people born between the late 90s and early 2010s) is no longer interested in reading newspapers. Fortunately, I have been having the righteous habit of flipping the pages of newspaper since I was young, most probably in 7th standard. And in not only one, two but three languages. Perhaps there are many more experienced people who not just read papers but take a deep dive in the ocean of news daily. But the fact that newspaper is not something which is adored much by the newer generation cannot be denied too. There are several reasons why newspapers are not being read by young people in many countries. The most important one is the evolution of information technology. One no longer has to read a newspaper to stay updated about the latest happenings in the world. It is now possible to get instant updates from the internet. Another reason for this loss of interest is that youngsters need byte sized information and lack the required patience to read long news reports. Also, they have little interest in topics such as politics and business which receive undue coverage in traditional media. However, everyone should read newspapers because these are authentic sources of information. This is not exactly the case with social media where gossips spread faster than truths. It is also said that if you want to improve your language then newspapers are the best place to go. It includes the words of some highly intellectual people around us. Reading them will ultimately lead to progress. In order to win the attention of young people, stories like sports & entertainment should be given more coverage. Only counting the benefits of newspapers can't reap anything. To conclude, young people don't read newspapers because they can receive news updates from anywhere today. Also they are not interested in the topics discussed extensively in news (you can't ignore Indian politics though😬). However, by creating content that interests new readers, anything is possible. For this we need more and more young people in the field of content writing and journalism so that creative ways of representation emerge and people show interest in the huge world of news articles. “The newspaper is a greater treasure to the people than uncounted millions of gold.” 💕 - Henry Ward Beecher
I hope you already got to read and review my YA novella about the harp seal pup Danny and the group of activists and environmentalists trying to save him from the hands of greedy humans. In case you didn't, this is the last opportunity to get Look for Me Under the Rainbow at a 67% discount price this year! Sunday, November 15, 2020, 8:00 AM PST through Sunday, November 22, 2020, 12:00 AM PS Please read an excerpt to get a better feeling of this beautiful, gentle and touching story. * * * Too late, Danny realized he did not have time nor strength enough to reach his mother for protection. With tears in his eyes, he watched her blurred shape stumbling slowly closer to him and tried to call out. But he could not, his throat felt choked. He braced himself for what was coming. Trying not to turn away, he looked the human in the eyes, at least he thought those were the eyes of this bizarre creature. He had learned the lesson well, as everything else his mother taught him, and now he had to apply his knowledge in real life whether he liked it or not. Staring, he stood motionless even when he heard noises behind him. In the corner of his field of vision, he noticed his mother between him and the human being. She growled dangerously even when the thing covering the creature's head fell off as it slipped onto the ice in its effort to go around his mother. Danny's fear disappeared, when he saw something almost un-believable. Lovely golden hair, soft as the finest fur, fell in waves down the red buttoned-up parka. Danny thought it must be human fur. He couldn't stop gazing at the sea colored eyes, set in the perfectly carved features of her face. They caressed him with pleasant warmth and kindness. Only red lips, the tip of the nose and rosy cheeks stood in contrast to the harmony and beauty of the face. When she sprayed his fur and spoke words he did not understand, Danny was not afraid. At the same time, she held his mother at a safe distance, not allowing her to come closer. He could do nothing but stare at those eyes, the incredible blue eyes that came from an unknown world. Enchanted, he looked at his own image reflected in them while she gently patted his head, whispering tenderly. She stood up, folded her hair back under the hood, smiled at him and started back to the ship from which she had come and scared the wits out of him. And Danny still looked at her, transfixed. His mother's tears, falling like warm and silent drops on his face, returned him to reality. * * * If you want to read the whole story, download your copy here for only $0.99! Look for Me Under the Rainbow is primarily read by younger readers, but it is a story for everyone, especially the readers who cherish our beautiful planet and wish to protect its treasures. Thank you for reading Look for Me Under the Rainbow and leaving an honest review on Amazon and Goodreads. Your honest reviews are most appreciated and welcome, so thank you for your time and effort to write a few lines about my book. Thank you also for spreading the message. Please don't forget to check out my two other books, A World Without Color and January River, which you can also get as eBook and paperback. All three books can be nice gifts your beloved ones will appreciate. Download Look for Me Under the Rainbow: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07C7JGMNG/ BJ Original post: https://www.bernardjan.com/post/the-last-discount-for-look-for-me-under-the-rainbow-in-2020
Just 1 month until the release of, A Touch Eldritch, the first of an annual series, written for young teenagers. A collection of short stories to make you cringe, horror and spooky stories on the fringe. I am looking forward to hearing the feedback on this my first collection of short stories.