Procyon

Sounds like her nationality is more of a problem than the fact that she's a mother (and a woman). But if you want to write a mother, bring out your own inner mother. Just think of what you would do if you were in her shoes. We mothers are just like the rest of you, I promise -- just use your own experience and you'll be fine.

Mahmoud is getting married and his sister has a boyfriend. Neither is a cause for celebration.

The Café by Procyon White Mahmoud looked at the waiter. Decidedly gay, always smiling a nice, effeminate smile, wagging his head and batting his eyelids. Far too gay for Mahmoud’s taste, yet he was somehow attractive. Mahmoud never went to cafés, at least not to this kind of café. He didn’t know what had made him come in here today. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been walking past this place many times and it had – well, it’d just looked so nice. So inviting. So unl

Patrick finds a man after midnight.

Messing with Time by Procyon Deep down I knew it’d be bad – one shouldn’t mess with time; one shouldn’t try to look into the future. But we didn’t think of that then. It was Midsummer’s Eve, one of the four magic nights of the year, and we’d decided to spend the night at a crossroads where four roads met and thus get to see into the future. People used to do that a long time ago; we’d heard about it, and one of us had read about it in a book. It was like one of those gh

Consolation comes to Jim, who's had a bad breakup, in a very doughty form.

The Man and His Sourdough by Procyon ‘I just don’t think things are working between us,’ said George, sitting opposite Jim in the little café they always went to. Jim was dumbfounded. This couldn’t be true. ‘I – it’s not you, it’s me,’ George went on as Jim said nothing. ‘I need some space, I need time to think.’ They sat there for some seconds, Jim staring at the table, George looking at a spot on the wall just behind Jim. ‘I’ve packed my things,’ George said, clearing hi

My boyfriend's smell -- juuust kidding, I don't have one -- but I like the smell of lavender. Not that I need anything to steam me up if I'm with the right person.

I've got violently red toenails right now since I had them PEDICURED in Tunisia last week, haha. Not my favourite colour though...

Tiger -- aww, thanks for starting the thread! Mike -- great that you know where my name comes from -- I always imagine canis minor as a dog similar to my mother's toy poodle. Krista -- I did have a great day, thanks. corvus -- aww, thanks -- hopefully I'll hear a fairly good 'son iiiiiiiiiiiiiio' in November, anyway. Bugeye, Drewbie -- thanks, I did have a lot of fun. Mark -- late is great, actually -- I'm always late myself.

Hot Lips

Isaac Asimov and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.. hmm.

Lol, totally! That was a great serial, too... Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat are one of the greatest couples I've seen on ice:

"Sometimes it feels like it

I voted no because I already like pussy, specifically my own -- not very interested in other people's pussies since I already have one...