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Maye Musk

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“Activity and creativity are, by and large, good for man’s soul. But remember that you don’t have to do something every single day, to be busy every single second. Not even meditation or the like. Sometimes your inner self just wants to sit, to breathe, to enjoy; to beautifully exist. Because by beautifully existing, you have already done more than enough!”

“It doesn't matter if she was prettier than you when he decided to cheat. She was treated like trash because he didn't commit to her. He didn't love her soul or cherished any of her accomplishments. He just liked her face and what is that? It is nothing. That is not who she is. He didn't give his heart or time to her, She was the one that was cheated on because he went home to you. You never lost him because he didn't divorce you. So don't be so hard on the other woman. She was nothing to him. She was only something superficial that he coveted. But loving her? Knowing her? Sharing his deepest feelings with her?. No! She could have been any pretty face. It was never her but a fantasy. He didn't even know her, but for her beauty. And what is beauty? It is anything that can be bought at a plastic surgeon's office?”

“Your eyes, Their glamorous radiance, Their eternal, heavenly warmth, Their delicate and intricate beauty, The desire to see that twinkle, That gorgeous hazel glow, Overwhelms me, Hazel, the most beautiful Shade of green, Like splashes of sunlight, painting The trembling woods a patchwork of Deep ambers and throbbing reds, Like a shrouded sky, suffocating By melting greys and inky blacks, Like the rippling of chestnut browns And pine greens on a trembling tree, Your eyes, they seem, are Always distracted, Always thinking, Always swirling with hidden embers And falling leaves, They hold so many secrets That I wish I could read, Mesmerising, perplexing, surreal, How I longed to be drowned in Those dizzying pools of colours And never be found again, I adore your hazel eyes, How they utterly charm me, Like the richly brilliant stars, They truly are a masterpiece”

“Never mind that. What's going on with you and Heath?" Annabelle pulled a little wide-eyed innocence out of her rusty bag of college acting skills. "What do you mean? Business." "Don't give me that. We've been friends too long." She switched to a furrowed brow. "He's my most important client. You know how much this means to me." Molly wasn't buying it. "I've seen the way you look at him. Like he was a slot machine with triple sevens tattooed on his forehead. If you fall in love with him, I swear I'll never speak to you again." Annabelle nearly choked. She'd known Molly would be suspicious, but she hadn't expected an outright confrontation. "Are you nuts? Setting aside the fact that he treats me like a flunky, I'd never fall for a workaholic after what I've had to go through with my family." Falling in lust, however, was an entirely different matter. "He has a calculator for a heart," Molly said. "I thought you liked him.”