A/N: Another short poem, but I am however working on a longer piece (cirka 15 pages), if anyone prefers my short stories.
Time to study.
Time to stress.
Time to work.
To get success.
Time to worry.
Time to drink.
Time to forget.
No time to think.
Time to regret.
Time to doubt.
Now time for love.
But time ran out.
A/N: Another Sarah Doughty poem – do you guys agree with it or not? 🙂
If you dare
© Sarah Doughty
A/N: This week’s post is an academic essay on Pride and Prejudice with a focus on feminism.
The iconic story of Pride and Prejudice was published in 1813, but even though it was written by Jane Austen it was not published under her name. This was because that during the beginning of the nineteenth century, it was still considered shocking and scandalous for a woman to write for money.
This meant that when a book was published under an anonymous name it was often because it was in fact written by a woman. This also held true for the rest of Austen’s published work such as Sense and Sensibility, which was also published anonymously.
Continue reading “Pride and Prejudice: A Feminist Criticism” →
A/N: Wednesday poem by Sarah Doughty. In my mind, it’s the story of a tough break-up. What do you guys think? 🙂
I was born in limbo,
a purgatory of
but over time,
it into paradise.
© Sarah Doughty
A/N: A quick flash fiction.
Every year Eleanor Perry divorced her husband.
It was always around the middle of May, at the stroke of noon. It was true that midnight would have been more dramatic, but she honestly didn’t feel like having to stay up.
Eleanor loved her husband almost as much as she hated him. He was infuriating in every sense of the word. It was one thing that he was always mocking her, always embarrassing her and always making her feel like a little child – all of this she could forgive.
What she couldn’t forgive was how much he loved her.
He never tried to hide it. He was as brutally honest about his love for her as he was about everything else. He seemed to think it the greatest joke of his life.
“I want a divorce,” she said as she barged into the living room, and Roger looked up with his familiar sardonic smile. He was sitting alone, smoking one of those hated Cuban cigars that made the entire living room smell for days. He had been expecting her.
Continue reading “The Anniversary Game” →
A/N: Another beautiful micro-poem by Sarah Doughty
Today is not
to give up.
(Things I tell