Fret Stories

A world that has a weird hierarchy, With the one who holds the power the strongest, were titled the legendaries. This hierarchy resulted in wars, killing many people. As they wanted equality. The strongest held the elemental powers whereas the weakest held nothing. They wanted equality resulting in communal riots. They started fighting for power as they gain the power if they kill the wielder of that power. It was the only way to get stronger. Well they could train, but who wanted to work hard? Some were just power hunger people. ORIGINAL STORY!!

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Join fret a boy who has been introduced to secret world of protective magic along with friends he will battle monsters, looking for a monster fabled to be able to end the world "The Dark Scythe"

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❝ can i smash your face, my dear dental-device-niall? ❞

December 28 DON’T BITE Desperation jumps up, runs around, then drops.  If I don’t feed it, desperation burns out fast.  I used to buy the advertising, the Horror, the Humanity.  The acorn falling on my head convinced me easily.  I grew this nut into terrifying despair never realizing if I had left it alone how quickly it would pass.  When tragedy comes there is no time for a performance.  The whirling splendor itself proves the farce.  If I learn to recognize these triggers I might keep from shooting myself in the foot.  If I let desperation wear itself out I can stay with the pack.  Despondence splinters me and separates me from anything rational but quiet resolve lets me watch the wind twist while I keep my feet on the ground. Pay your friends in consideration and truth. * Winter is upon Us Spending time away from my clothes reminds me how much I love and hate something which only serves to protect and decorate me.  Struggle with necessity, mad opinions about requirements, these are things I lost months and years to in my past and now only find as a sad footnote to the strangeness that is me.  I have so much control over how hard I make things and no control over how hard things are.  I can not set the weather but I can easily don my hat.  Putting on a big pout over needing a hat, ah, well here is where acceptance plays a major role.  I do however find comfort in the fact that I am not alone in this, I watch my poodle fret when her hair grows too long and shiver when it is shorn too short on cold crisp days.  It’s good to have a fellow quibbler as I pull a blanket over her and slip on my hat. Vlog:  http://youtu.be/PXkPJ3kAF5g You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault