Illustration credit: Sharon Townshend. Apple Tree. Pencil on white paper.
Last night, at 3AM I woke up wide awake from a strange dream. The phrase with soft feminine wiles was running through my head. I was even saying it quietly under my breath. I dreamt I was playing a game of scrabble with long-long-long-ago high school boys persons of the past. At the onset of the game, I was acting as if I really couldn’t play well, but in actuality I was setting them up for a trap; I knew that I would blow them to smithereens with my next two moves. However, I smiled sweetly and used all of my soft feminine wiles to compel them to humor me and play the game. Strange, no question about it. Don’t read into it, okay. I obviously have a competitive side, or something. Continue reading
