I don’t know why these people think they can control me. I am the top of the food chain. The ultimate predator. I eat mice for breakfast.
The sound of the hive was soothing. The drone of the bees busily doing their lifes work was a constant reminder that he could provide for himself, that never again would he be reliant on someone else to feed him.
She didn’t think of herself as a judgmental person. She didn’t participate in Mummy shaming or tearing down people because they were wearing the wrong colour nail polish with their summer dress. She was even less judgmental if that nail polish was chipped.