BE THE BEST LOVER
Florence was worrying herself to death. Worry ate at her like termites.
Florence was worrying herself to death. Worry ate at her like termites.
I let the cat out this morning. She never bolts out the door. She ponders the risk.
I’m not giving up anything. I’m not taking on anything. I’m happy with the way I am. It took a lot of years and a lot of effort to reach this point.
Russians and Ukrainians are killing each other by the thousands. Putin has his reasons. Every fool does. Zelensky has his reasons. Every victim does.
Two Super Bowl ads were deemed offensive to many, including to AOC.
Do you have a famous birthday twin. I thought I must. So I did a search on July 5, 1947.
I believe in love. But I also believe love is not enough.
Suddenly the door burst open. Audrey (not her real name) stomped in, leaned against the wall, folded her arms across her chest, and glared. At me, at the room, at the world.
There’s no empirical evidence to prove prayer works. And yet we still pray.
King prayed. But the “Serenity Prayer” was not his kind of prayer.
Thanks to Old Scratch I’ll be posting a reflection on something I find remarkable in and around my world most every Sunday morning.
Read more about the devil’s role in my life in “This Little Light of Mine” under Let Love Arise in the menu bar.
There had to be a sequel to last week’s post: “Know thyself.” Here it is: “Love yourself.” Knowing is good. Loving is better.
“Know thyself” sounds like good advice until you try it and end up down a rabbit hole, or in a hall of mirrors.
I met a Brood X cicada who spoke English. She agreed to an interview with The Devil’s Gift.
An old friend wanted to go on a bike ride during my blog writing hours. Friend or not, I mustn't give in to temptation or my work will suffer.
© 2024 · The Devil's Gift, website powered by The Downstream Project