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CasualWanderer82

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  1. CasualWanderer82
    I'm sure Jackson will challenge that statement...🤭
  2. CasualWanderer82
    "Now that right there was ’bout the sweetest thang I ever did read in all my born days." Casual W.
  3. CasualWanderer82
    The road unrolled like a Sunday tie, crooked in places, respectable enough if you didn't stare too long. Cash drove one-handed, the way men who grew up steering tractors and arguments do. His other hand occupied Daisy's thermos lid, which had already been promoted to cup, communion by caffeine. Jackson had his feet braced on the glove box, his ankles crossed, and a paper sack of biscuits between his knees like a sacrament he planned to share once he was sure Cash remembered how to be gratef
  4. CasualWanderer82
    Daisy is the embodiment of unconditional love. And empathy. Daisy came to me and (to us) at the right time. I can only hope Daisy isn't just a fantasy of mine and that somewhere out there, there are people like her, making this world a little better. One biscuit at a time.
  5. CasualWanderer82
    As always, I appreciate your words and commentary. Two more chapters to go before we close this tale. Hopefully, I won't disappoint.
  6. CasualWanderer82
    CATCH! 😜
  7. CasualWanderer82
    The courthouse had the Sunday smell, wax and old paper, but the room was all weekday spine. Benches in two neat ranks, an aisle like a river running between two versions of the same town. On the right, suits black as a promise, haircuts you could set a watch by, Governor Whitlow himself, anointed in quiet with his signet ring flashing every time he adjusted a cuff. On the left, Willow Creek proper. Daisy's volunteers with hydrangea pins clipped to thrifted dresses, Mr. Peabody's
  8. CasualWanderer82
    Welcome to "crazy".
  9. CasualWanderer82
    Hot & Tangled. Not a bad title.
  10. CasualWanderer82
    I absolutely adore what you said here.
  11. CasualWanderer82
    Nothing wrong with a little loving "rage"...😏😅
  12. CasualWanderer82
    As a reader of mine and friend said: I'm changing my rulebook with this one and presenting the story and its ending as a "sweet fantasy" for a change. I think the world I built and these characters deserve it. 😉
  13. CasualWanderer82
    And what a road trip it will be! 😉
  14. CasualWanderer82
    I'm the one who should thank you for reading, and giving this story a chance.
  15. CasualWanderer82
    We should all be so lucky to have people like these in our lives.
  16. CasualWanderer82
    Daisy runs on "empathy". We should all take notes.
  17. CasualWanderer82
    Morning pressed its face to the shop's windows like a curious child, pale and patient, laying a bright coin on Jackson's shoulder where the throw had slid. He surfaced slowly, the way you rise from a warm river, limbs heavy, lungs easy. Cash was behind him, one hand tucked under Jackson's ribs like he'd finally decided the world didn't get to drop this boy again without going through him first. They lay a moment in the hush, cataloguing the thousand small proofs that the last forty-eight ho
  18. CasualWanderer82
    Robert from "Wicked Games" and Brandon from "Seagull's Bay".
  19. CasualWanderer82
    I love them, too!
  20. CasualWanderer82
    I'm glad you noticed. I was trying something different with it. ☺️
  21. CasualWanderer82
    I've always tried, to the best of my ability, to find redeeming qualities in all my characters. To date, only two characters I've written have failed that test. Colton isn’t one of those characters. 😉
  22. CasualWanderer82
    I think you spelled that wrong...😜
  23. CasualWanderer82
    Me too...me too. But I'm sure he'll be alright in the end. Hopefully. 😉
  24. CasualWanderer82
    Thanks, @austinbiguy more to come!
  25. CasualWanderer82
    Cash's palm stayed up, patient. Jackson laid his own in it, and that was the whole decision. They met in the soft mouth of lamplight and sawdust, bodies finding the old geometry like a song remembered on the second verse. Cash's hand slid to the small of Jackson's back and fit there like it had been measured. The other framed his jaw, thumb grazing the corner of his mouth as if to tidy a truth that had got too bright. "C'mere," Cash murmured, and the words came slow as syrup. Jack
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