Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • it was somewhere between the spring and the summer, around my sixteenth birthday... he struggled hard to attract my attention -not that he needed to- and i struggled hard to resist it -not that i thought for a second that i could-... some people are meant to accompany you along your way, teach you things in mysterious ways, make you experience extreme highs and extreme lows so that you'll know what to do and what not to later on, when it's time to move on by yourself after a short period of constant summer.

    it was the season of strawberries.... So delicious, so fresh, so sweet... So short-lived and so easily bruised. He, quite inadvertantly i must say, taught me not to count on a strawberry season, so i have always had some faux ones stocked on the side for when it gets colder. Through him, quite inadvertantly i must say, i learned that a girl with substitute fabric strawberries is never as easily bruised, while she can put them on the shelf when ripe, juicy ones come her way.

    Thank you... Thank you for teaching me how to create my own summer whenever i may need it. How to glow by myself whomever i am with. I exist on this knowledge, thank you...
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.