20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Pass Me A Smile

Today it rained and then it fogged,

I couldn’t see and so I blogged.

I told a story of a time where men,

spoke of their problems and were gentlemen.

This time is gone and now I see,

that all that’s left can’t surely be.

What happened to the days in which,

doors were held open and no lies were stitched.

I have a dream and let it be said

when I rest my head and go to bed.

Life is simple and can be cruel

don’t let it drag you like a mule.

Smile and laugh and make good decisions,

and soon you will see you dreams come to fruition.

© Christina Laureano 2014


Do you make pretty things you want to sell?

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

I have set up a new blog where those who I follow and who follow me can post what they make.  Handcrafted items made by YOU. 

Do a blog post and add it here and I will promote it in my stores and get the word out as well.

I know it has my bracelet on header but ideally once a week to have one of your photos run there would be fun too!

Email me at Eunice356@gmail and let me know if you make something you would like to have showcased and generate some sales on.  Once I add you as a contributor you can post or I can re-blog if you do a post on your blog.


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Dreaming into daytime
Hope that begins to take place
Unpredictable people hiding their fears
Unconscious looks all over their face

Fluently speaking to others
Some making no sense at all
Dreamers keep on dreaming
I continue to fall

My dreams somehow have ended
I’m walking in my sleep
Tomorrow’s never coming
I’m fading to the deep

I’m seeing the man in the window
He’s talking to me day-to-day
Dreamlands lost it’s luring
My nights are filled with gray


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Daily Prompt: Exhale/No One Got Hurt

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:


My Last Rig

I started out early one morning yes before the sun came up, as do most truckers.  I had delivered one load of water, with my tanker,  a few hours south of Boston.  I stopped for coffee,  for the ride back up to the mountains for my second load of the day.  I walked around my rig kicking each tire as I do after hauling a load for few hours, all was good they were all still up and lights all were working properly so I made my way back into the driver’s seat.

I made the trip up into the mountains of New Hampshire for another tanker full of Spring Water.  I took three or four loads a day,  six to seven days a week into the bottling plants as we prepared for Y2K, do you remember that in 1999,  as the world worried about life as…

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Right2Write Prompt 9: Stop Terrorism

Her tears cascaded slowly down collecting on the photo album that she guarded with all her capability. Abigail and her father were so close , they did everything together. The night before he left they had spent the night arm in arm. He promised Abigail he would bring her something special when he returned.

It was on the third day after he had left , the warnings began to come in . According to the news ,bombing threats were in place as the government was telling people to take cover and remain inside.  Abigail was in school waiting for her mom to come pick her up when the first strike hit. the bombs fell randomly . Bridges had been knocked out and buildings had been leveled as  roads were impassable. The next strike hit as Abigail’s mom was turning into the school parking lot. A cluster of bombs hit the school as she watched in horror, jumping from the car she ran to what was left of the school.  Wandering the hallways screaming Abigail’s name seemed like an eternity for her.

The doorbell rang startling her as she returned to reality . Quickly she wiped the tears from her face walking to the door. It had been one year to the date since the bombings had happen in their small town. A smile broke on her face as Abigail walked through the door . Listening to little Abigail telling her about their trip to the cemetery to put flowers on her dads grave . She said to her mom that she and grandma made a sign for daddy’s grave that said please stop terrorism….


sand sculpture by Sudarshan Pattnaik



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