<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406769544793026481</id><updated>2011-06-16T17:11:16.817-04:00</updated><category term='Photo for inspiration'/><category term='poem'/><category term='novel in the making'/><title type='text'>Purple Prose</title><subtitle type='html'>Like my ironic title? Here are my stories, please comment! Ignore the dates. I needed to change them in order to put everything in the desired order.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15929328542822949141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fjsnut0Jzg4/TeQ8-RNxuUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HG8JpyxUFnc/s1600/space.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406769544793026481.post-726513778494607552</id><published>2011-05-30T17:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T17:07:58.944-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo for inspiration'/><title type='text'>Girl with Green Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bi50yHPGzys/TE495HWlJjI/AAAAAAAADVQ/v6-rKuGyGx8/s320/green-eye-afghan-girl-national-geographic.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="211" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;SO much feeling&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3406769544793026481-726513778494607552?l=mypurpleprose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/feeds/726513778494607552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/girl-with-green-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/726513778494607552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/726513778494607552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/girl-with-green-eyes.html' title='Girl with Green Eyes'/><author><name>Molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15929328542822949141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fjsnut0Jzg4/TeQ8-RNxuUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HG8JpyxUFnc/s1600/space.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bi50yHPGzys/TE495HWlJjI/AAAAAAAADVQ/v6-rKuGyGx8/s72-c/green-eye-afghan-girl-national-geographic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406769544793026481.post-8004842023329149995</id><published>2011-05-29T21:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T21:24:54.658-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>hidden tears</title><content type='html'>hidden tears&lt;br /&gt;under my pillow, where no one will see them&lt;br /&gt;out in the world I wear a mask of happy ignorance&lt;br /&gt;but they come out of hiding every night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hidden tears&lt;br /&gt;deep in my heart, where no one can find them&lt;br /&gt;I try to portray childish glee&lt;br /&gt;but sometimes they slip out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hidden tears&lt;br /&gt;pouring out of my eyes&lt;br /&gt;not hidden anymore&lt;br /&gt;I want to disapere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3406769544793026481-8004842023329149995?l=mypurpleprose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/feeds/8004842023329149995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/hidden-tears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/8004842023329149995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/8004842023329149995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/hidden-tears.html' title='hidden tears'/><author><name>Molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15929328542822949141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fjsnut0Jzg4/TeQ8-RNxuUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HG8JpyxUFnc/s1600/space.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3406769544793026481.post-2106418821387454378</id><published>2011-05-29T19:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T19:43:22.946-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novel in the making'/><title type='text'>Past</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; You were following me. You&amp;nbsp;are short and small,&amp;nbsp;wore&amp;nbsp;a thin black cloak, caked with mud. You couldn't be more than 30, but your skin&amp;nbsp;is wrinkled from worry and there&amp;nbsp;are strands of silver in your milk chocolate hair.&amp;nbsp;And your eyes. Your eyes are what scare me the most. they are green on the outside but become more hazel towards the middle.I can see your terrible past in them, and resentment. You would appear, then see me and run, only to show up again within a day. It is as if I was stalking you. But I knew that it was you following me. I could see it in your eyes.Why&amp;nbsp;didn't I tell anyone?&amp;nbsp;Why don't I tell someone now?&amp;nbsp;I knew&amp;nbsp;you would be hurt (though I don't know whether it would be physical pain or mental pain) if I told someone. Your eyes told me everything. Now I&amp;nbsp;just have to make people believe that you were the horse handler on my late grandfathers farm.&amp;nbsp;Sorry if this offends you, but it is the only logical explanation for why I know you and no one else does. I guess that it isn't so bad that my father is terrified of horses. My mother is gone. Back to you now. The doctors said that when you wake up, you won't remember anything. That is why I need to talk to you. For you to remember, and then for me to find out. Did you even know my name? you won't remember now anyway. It is Bella. Don't worry, I am keeping your secret, what ever it is. The doctors think that you got hurt while handling horses. I doubt that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3406769544793026481-2106418821387454378?l=mypurpleprose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/feeds/2106418821387454378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/2106418821387454378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3406769544793026481/posts/default/2106418821387454378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mypurpleprose.blogspot.com/2011/05/past.html' title='Past'/><author><name>Molly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15929328542822949141</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='20' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Fjsnut0Jzg4/TeQ8-RNxuUI/AAAAAAAAAAg/HG8JpyxUFnc/s1600/space.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
