The nomad girl
- Reads 9
- Votes 2
- Parts 2
Ongoing6m
Last published Mon, Feb 21, 2022
A story of how a small nomad, village girl who had big dreams went about life and the obstacles that life threw her way.
This story aims at empowering the girl child and showing her that any thing is achievable and that she can be whoever she wants to be because she is the ONLY ONE who defines herself.
They say, a ship is drowned by the water that gets in to it and not the one surrounding it,this shows how what we let ourselves believe in only limits us from achieving our full potential and that no matter what people think of you, it is what you think of yourself that will matter by the end of the day.
I hope by the end of this book, all the babes here know how much power they have in their grasp and how they are the ones to control this world. Adam was mislead by Eve for a reason(wink) that only shows how powerful we are as women. Let's face it, if we managed to get everyone kicked out of heaven what else can't we do(it's a dark joke though don't kill me?)....
A DEDICATION TO ALL THE GIRLS OUT THERE, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE THE PRICE, YOU ARE A QUEEN AND YOU GOT THIS. BOSS UP BABES.
All Rights Reserved
#92
ladygaga
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'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...
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