Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Crazy Memories #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——–


Credit: Alistair Forbes – A Mixed Bag

——–

“You forgot it again, didn’t you?” I ask Gillian 

“Yes,” she said exasperated. “You know I’m always forgetting it, losing it, or damaging it permanently. Phones don’t like me.”

“I’ve known you twelve years and I’m pretty sure you’ve gone through more than twelve phones.”

Gillian starts to laugh. “Yeah, so true. My Dad would get so upset at me in university. I think I broke like six cell phones.”

I laugh at her memories. “One time you lost your new phone down the sewer. You were crying because you were drunk and wanted to go back for your phone. Melissa and I kept telling you it was gone.”

Really? I don’t remember that?”

“You wouldn’t,” I tell Gillian giggling. “I had to physically pick you up and place you in the cab. I told the cab driver to ignore your pleas to go back to the bar and I half carried you into Melissa’s apartment where you passed out.”

Gillian giggled, “Those were crazy times. Thank goodness my phone is just on the kitchen counter, not in the sewer.”

We both grin at each other. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Couplets - rhyme and have same meter, Current Events, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 3 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Elegy/Couplets – “The Traveler Reaches Home” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is  poem type called an elegy – a poem that mourns or honors someone dead or something gone by. Center the elegy on an unusual fact about the person or thing being mourned. ” An elegy generally combines three stages of loss: first there is grief, then praise of the dead one, and finally consolation.” Please see Literary Devices for more information.

I’ve paired this prompt with The A to Z Challenge quote, having the author/quoter’s name begin with the letter C. 

———

Credit: Danika and Peter via UnSplash

———
“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.” Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

——-

Here we gather, today it finally hit —

Me, you won’t be coming back; such grit

You displayed, at the crux, as death grew near.

There was no “going gently” for you dear.

I always admired that you were strong,

At the finish you groaned your last song.

The pain was so great, it hurt us to see,

A candle flame who flared, flickering free.

Death was not easy, nor was your young life.

But you always shouldered through the strife.

A kind, giving person — philanthropist,

With death, you became a minimalist.

Objects hold memories, the Stone’s song we know —

well: “You Can’t Take It With You When You Go.”

As we remember, we wonder why —

Three-years ago you left, disappeared wide —

Across the world, sending postcards to —

Us all, as you adventured across through —

Every country you could see with no —

Face Time, Skype; we were scared you wouldn’t come —

Back; but you knew how sick you had become.

That’s why you left, returned, with all of your —

Stories to share as you withered, poorly —

Weak and fragile, all your living used up.

No matter we were so afraid it’s just

We didn’t understand your reasons ’til —

You said, “I’m dying fast, I have no more will —

to live, my time is drawing near, I see —

God’s blessed glory shining, in front of me.”

We forgive you for leaving twice; we know —

Your Heavenly home, will now shelter you.

It’s hard how it ended, but we’ll see you —

Soon — in the peace, Heaven granted for you.

——



———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


My Thoughts

Tale Weavers: Poem – The Blitz – “The Maiden and The Dragon” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt about a quest, such as the ones JRR Tolkien writes about in his famous books. 

———–

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Dragons are here, I know it

Dragons beware, my sword is sharp

Sharp as the knives hid on my body

Sharp as the tongue of my wife

Wife said, “Do not go” 

Wife begged, yet I went 

Went through the haunted forest dark 

Went through the storms, muck, and mire

Mire as quicksand, sucked in my body

Mire that almost swallowed my life

Life burnt a flaming hole so wide

Life’s flame would not flicker out

Out of the muck and mire pulled

Out of certain death to rescue a princess

Locked in a tower for my Lord, my King 

Locked in a tower and languishing

Languished she did for centuries

Languished as a spell had been cast

Cast, so she would always sleep

Cast, because evil always hates

Hates beauty and goodness

Hates who this princess is said to be 

Be afraid though, I warn you, friend 

Be vigilant in your task to save 

Saving the princess isn’t the challenge

Saving her, I wondered, where is the dragon? 

Dragon she rose from the depths of beauty 

Dragon was the the princess herself 

Herself screaming, “I am the dragon”

Herself shouting, “I will eat you whole” 

Wholly she transformed in that fiery beast

Wholly she was a scaled, sulphereous demon

Demon who cried, “I am no damsal in distress”

Demon who seethed, “I protect me” 

Me, I gazed upon the languishing beauty 

Me, my eyes met the dragons yellow-eyed stare

Stared into my soul, saw I was a ruin 

Stared into my heart, saw I was wretched

Wretched cursed princess, the dragon? 

Wretched as the princess waiting 

Waiting and no one came so she grew tired

Waiting as she wrecks her vengeance 

Vengeance because no hero is true 

Vengeance, she can depend only on herself, no heroes 

Hereo, the archetypal kind who abuse poor maidens

Heroe, is there such a man who ever existed? 

Existed a hero she once did love 

Existed her hero but he never came — she remains cursed 

Cursed though she be, I could not destroy the beast

Cursed, she knows not why she is punished, cursed. 

Beast but still a girl, so I left, ashamed I could not save her. 

Cursed, she lingers on my mind, the maiden, the dragon as one

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “The Demon Spawned” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting today’s prompt, a “gothic” tale or poem — the macabre.

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

Was such a dreary night forewarned,

In dirt squiggled both bugs and worms.

For they too felt doom bemoaning,

To be out on this night groaning.

A monster from hell was spawned, a demon seething,

Earth felt the heaven’s warn, evil darkness speeding.

——

Why such a night did I choose,

To walk my scrawny pooch?

In a fight she would run straight home,

No blind love, she left me alone.

As twilight bubbled as witch’s brew steaming,

An evil curse my bones hurt knowing it was too near.

——

Our little neighbourhood was vast,

In pitch black terror I was cast.

My prayers mumbled beneath my —

Breath; I begged this night not to die.

Starlight and slim moon were covered by creeping thick fog,

Oh, how wished, for even my cowardly scared dog.

—–

Felt I the breath of evil reek,

A touch of frost open my young cheek.

Of something old, of catastrophe,

An ancient wicked masterpiece.

A monster so dark, it did me choke, both claws squeezing,

All life from lungs, bones crushing while I was bleeding.

—–

And now I’m nothing but my soul,

I choose — serve eternity bold.

Be not afraid as I was of dark,

For now I’m light, a fighting spark,

Giving courage, weapons to those facing monsters,

Sending back the most damned beasts, to hell launching.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer P2: The Liberty of Choice #amwriting #flashfiction #music 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. If you didn’t already know this is a Part 2 to Part 1 (found here).

——

Credit: Mike Vore

——

Part 2:



When Evangeline left home, she didn’t take a cent of the money she had earned playing piano at concerts. 

To make a living she learned to play guitar and sing vocals with various bands at ‘hole in the wall’ clubs in L.A. What little money she had she used for voice lessons, rent, and food.  She increasingly wrote and sang her own songs. 

At twenty-four, Evangeline auditioned for the popular reality TV show, “The Voice.” From the beginning, her talent blew the judges away and she eventually won first place. She called home and invited her mom to come see her final performance for the show.

 When Evangeline sat down in front of the grand piano her hands shook above the piano keys. She hadn’t played a piano in three years beyond practising in private for the finale show. She surprised everyone with her skillful piano playing and successful rendition of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.” 

At the end of that night Evangeline hugged her mom. Every ounce of resentment and hate she felt for Ruth in the past had faded. She was also amused when she remembered the priceless expression on her mother’s face, hearing the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” 

She was also grateful Ruth had pushed her and provided Evangeline a background as a performer. It gave her an edge as she was now able to pursue her musical talents true to her own choices. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Fiction: Cinderella and Her Diamond Heels #fiction #amwriting #cinderellamythmaker 


Thank you to Anne at I Think, I Say, I Do and Theresa Baker – Lab Notes for hosting the #cinderellamythmaker Cinderella: Collaboration Project.


cinderella-washing-floor
Credit: http://www.giphy.com – Cinderella Cleaning Bubbles
Cinderella could feel her back begin to ache as she washed the floors by hand. The mansion she now cleaned had been her father’s mansion before her stepmother poisoned his tea. Her stepmother had convinced her father’ s old solicitors that Cinderella was too young to take care of the mansion when she was twelve-years-old. The vile woman had claimed Cinderella’s home for herself and her two spoiled daughters Giselle and Monique.

Cinderella wouldn’t legally be able to have the mansion back until she was married or twenty-five-years-old. She knew her stepmother wouldn’t allow either to occur. Her only hope was to be able to have enough money to afford the solicitor her stepmother had offended.

Her stepmother had refused to marry a well-known solicitor after Cinderella’s father had passed. She knew he was the only one who would take a servant’s case to get back at the stepmother. Until then, Cinderella’s jailor would keep the house and Cinderella as a slave working in it.

She finished washing the floor pleased as they shined. Then, her homely stepsisters walked across it with muddy shoes. When one tripped, both Giselle and Monique began to hit Cinderella. She pushed them away and they kept walking, calling her names. She had to rewash some spots on the floor but she didn’t care. Cinderella had a secret and it was going to free her from the tyranny of her stepmother and stepsisters.


A lonely beggar wandering past the front gate had seen Cinderella crying last night. She had

cinderlla-beggar
Credit: Wikipedia – “Tha Man With The Twisted Lip” by Sidney Paget
wanted to attend the ball and with the beggar’s surprising magic powers, he had granted Cinderella’s wish. She realized, however, the beggar wouldn’t be granting this wish without thinking about his own well-being. She could see he was a crafty man and wondered what he was up to, why he would grant her such a request.

He’d created a beautiful frothy blue gown for Cinderella to wear with the most stunning diamond high heels she’d ever seen; Cinderella had a thing for gorgeous shoes. They were so wonderful Cinderella asked if she could keep them after the night ended. The beggar had agreed with a mischevious smile.

Cinderella had a purpose in keeping her diamond heels. She had planned to sneak out of the house in one of her mother’s old dresses and sell her priceless heels to higher the solicitor who so despised her stepmother. She wanted the mansion and what was left of her father’s fortune, especially her sizable dowry, which her stepmother couldn’t get at no matter how hard she tried.

Moreover, Cinderella’s stepmother didn’t know about the money her father had illegally acquired on the black market. It was hidden away in offshore accounts only Cinderella knew about. She couldn’t access them until the day after the ball which was her twenty-fifth birthday.


cinderella-ball-gown-2
Credit: http://www.es.AliExpress.com – Classic Cinderella Prom Party Gowns
Cinderella had attended the ball and knew the prince liked her as soon as he saw her. There was a glint in his blue eyes and he had this charming lopsided grin. She hadn’t meant to let him go so far with her — but then they did.

“I really like you,” he told Cinderella, “You’re much more fun those other girls who want to be my wife but won’t put out. Plus, you’re intelligent and make me laugh. Most of the other girls are too scared they will appear unladylike.” She’d giggled surprised at his comment and Cinderella found herself liking him.

She gave the prince a playful punch. He was entertaining but she knew she’d never see him again. Cinderella gazed up at him and said, “Look, this is a one-time thing and that’s all you’re about all going to get from me because I have a curfew. I’m not allowed out often.”

“I’m ‘the prince,’  I can overrule your curfew or any other rules your father has.”

Cinderella sighed, “Sorry, you can’t. I mean it, I have to leave.” Cinderella ran off

cinderall-gown-3-escaping
Credit: http://www.es.AliExpress.com – Classic Cinderella Prom Party Gowns
before her gown disintegrated and she was left in rags. She swore when she realized only one of her diamond heels had been lost. She’d left one behind while running from the prince but she needed both of them to afford the solicitor. Frustrated she went home and cried herself to sleep.


Then, the prince announced the following day, every young woman in the kingdom needed to try on the diamond heel left behind by the girl he desired above all others.

Cinderella rolled her eyes because she thought the prince was daft. Many women in the kingdom could have the same size feet. She thought about her missing shoe and the beggar, how she was sure he’d been up to something when he granted her wish. She thought the shoes might only fit her feet due to the beggars magic.

The beggar knew Cinderella valued the shoes above all and that’s why he let her keep them. It was strange she would lose track of such beautiful shoes because she loved them so much and had never had shoes this nice before. She knew the crafty beggar had to be responsible for her lost shoe. He probably made the prince fall for her and so that she wouldn’t be able to return to her plan, to sell the shoes and retain her birthright. The beggar had seen the shrewd woman beneath her simple wish. 

Cinderella had only been interested in going to the ball because as she was cleaning outside, she recognized the beggar was a powerful wizard in hiding, who had the power to grant wishes. She hadn’t sought to meet the prince but to be provided with a beautiful dress and shoes she could sell to escape. She was upset about ending up with only one diamond heel.


cinderella-diamond-high-heels
http://www.lelong.com – Newest High Heel Diamond Wedding Shoes

The following week the prince and his servants arrived at the mansion. Her stepmother tried to lock her in a closet but Cinderella had hated her stepmother for many years. She’d had enough of her tyranny and punched the old bat, knocking her out then stuffing her in the closet.

Cinderella hurried down the stairs in one of her mother’s old day dresses. She interrupted  Giselle and Monique trying with all their might to jam the shoe on their chubby feet. Cinderella feared her beloved shoe would shatter.

“Careful that’s a diamond shoe,” she cried bringing out the shoe’s twin, slipping both shoes on, doing up the straps, and parading around in them both for the prince to see. He was confused a moment because Cinderella appeared out of place in her outdated dress but he had her brought closer to him by a servant.

The prince gazed into her face and then moved her long hair out of the way to find the tattoo of a bluebird on her upper back. He declared she was the girl from the ball and she would be his new mistress.

“I’m delighted to see you again,” he said to her with a flirtatious raise of his brows. “You’d be the perfect bride but I’m guessing you have little wealth or dowry to go along with your shoes. On the other hand, you’re much less maintenance than any other girl who nearly fit your shoe.”

Cinderella huffed and being as polite as she could, asked to speak to the prince in private. She explained her entire situation to him concerning her stepmother. She told him how priceless her shoes were, that the mansion was legally hers, and that she had a large dowry along with whatever money her stepmother hadn’t used from her father’s wealth; it turned out to be a lot, more than her stepmother had ever realized. Cinderella smirked, it was so like her father to hide more of his money.

Consulting his advisors, the prince decided Cinderella would make a fantastic bride who would add considerable wealth to his kingdom. He sent for the bishop and they were married immediately. A large public wedding followed months later and the stepmother was forced to retire to the countryside.

The prince was generous and gave Cinderella her father’s mansion (with the

cinderella-off-shore-accounts
Credit: CNN Money -Offshore Tax Havens
deed in her own name) as a wedding present. He married her sisters Gisele and Monique off to two of his dullest cousins but kept their dowries for himself.

He didn’t know about the money hidden in offshore accounts by Cinderella’s father and she decided not to tell him. She was no idiot and decided that every woman, even a princess, needed  ‘get away’ money.


The prince was pleased with Cinderella and was happy to have found a princess who was fun and learned quickly. She was smart and helped him increase the value of his kingdom by increasing taxation on the peasants and middle class. Unfortunately, a revolution broke out in the country around the same time, disturbing their happiness. The king and queen were beheaded along with many other nobles.

Cinderella had grown fond of the prince, she was certain she loved him. They

cinderella-the-prince
Credit: http://www.pinterest.com
had two twin girls together and it was lucky Cinderella had kept secret the money in her father’s offshore accounts. She used the money to escape to the US and start a new life with her family. The prince wasn’t upset Cinderella had hidden the money. He praised her for being shrewd and prepared for an emergency situation he hadn’t foreseen.


Life was rougher in the US but the money Cinderella had kept hidden allowed the prince to become the owner of several factories and make his way in business, mass-producing expensive shoes of all kinds for woman and men. Cinderella helped him design shoes woman paid hundreds and thousands of dollars to own.

cinderella-heart
Credit: http://www.pinterest.com
Their twin daughters married well and a century later the Prince’s ancestors would bring out Cinderella’s diamond heels, showing them off as precious heirlooms. In the end, she hadn’t had to sell her diamond heels. Cinderella was allowed to keep them before they married in public. She’d told the prince, “Promise me we never have to sell my diamond heels. If we do I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

The prince knew Cinderella was a savvy woman who could easily slip away and by then he loved her more than he wanted to admit; he granted her request. He learned that day and later taught his grandsons in America, “Nothing comes between a woman and her shoes.” And that’s how Cinderella and her prince lived happily ever after.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Blank Verse - unrhymed Iambic Pentameter, Fiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: Soliquey – Blank Verse – “The Con” #amwriting #soliliquey #fiction #SaturdayMix


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. This week’s prompt is a soliloquy at a train station. I’ll be using blank verse or unrhymed iambic pentameter as the Bard did. 

—–

“Imagine a scene, a train is pulling out of the station and a person standing on the platform looking dejected. What can have happened. Perhaps this person is someone in the station wishing to leave but for some reason hasn’t. “

——

Credit: GSK 2017

——-

So leaves the train, so leaves my heart, 

Why him I once loved, now I know not? 

Must have been his eyes so brilliant a green, 

Gems such as emeralds, a sea-green storm brewed.

Was it his cavalier smile, his laugh? 

With him I felt wanted, weak in the knees. 

I was his Queen, he my adoring King. 

He cared for me gently, said I shouldn’t stay —

On my own, for he loved me; fooled me, 

Underestimated a woman cruelly scorned. 

I saw cracks in the vase, facade crumbled, 

An artist’s dream of beauty such a fake, 

He left, emptied my pockets of money. 

This con thinks he’s safe going to Bahamas, 

Since he betrayed me, I say differently. 

He’ll be doing some flying, and me thinks he’s done. 
Thrown off the tallest bridge, out of the train. 

Expensive was his end, but I’m appeased

I watched his train moving away, still —

Missing his voice, his touch, time spent loving. 

But I know he never loved me, I was ‘means’ —

To an end; yet, the ‘real end’ was his own. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Beauty, Black Out, Fashion, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Black Out Prompt: Poem – Black Out – ” Not Roses” #amwriting #poetry #beauty #politics


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Black Out Prompt: 

—–

Credit: February 2017 INSTYLE Magazine

——-

Spring collection first shown, standout trends captivate. 

Pretty pink dresses, bandeau tops [are] proposed by influential, 

Femininity, classic ladylike variety reflected, underlying desire.

Creative support for the power and rights [of women], 

At a critical moment, clothes mirror complexity and chaos.

[A] new creative pointed statement, paying tribute, 

[Reminding us] attend the collection, printed with a line —

[It] leans [to] the left, favor[ing us] suffragettes. 

Explicit in making politics known, a reaction to unsettling results, 

 [Women and] fashion imagined entering a [new] season, 

Clothing playing [an] unexpected role, [our] viewpoints, [what] the world wears —

Becomes a political act. 

Interpretation, construeing message of inclusion, 

[There’s an] intention to celebrate women, 

We can all agree, [we need] be attentive and open to the world, to our creativity

[It] reflects our desiresembracing the imagery of strong, 

[What we wear is a] universal language women embrace. 

 [Your] engagement [demonstrates] how perceptions can change, 

Judged the same, we don’t assume shallow or [too] serious. 

Imagine in the coming years [unyielding] support, consider —

A contrary affect; [our] standards represent [our] enormous role. 

Perceive beauty’s responsibility taken seriously, 

Heartening to see interest in lives, so moved [knowing] —

We’re more and [moving forward with all] pioneering women, 

We’re not [merely] roses. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, Friday Fictioneer, Inverted Refrain - abab (ba) or (ab) - 8 syllable - indent last two lines., Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: Poem – Free Verse – “Echo Beyond”


Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.


ff-train-to-no-where
Credit: C.E. Ayr

Parts of city, no one admits are here,

Only smashed cars, railroad tracks live dying.

Find a fleck of hope here;

There’s not but skeletons, twisted years lost.

*****

We stare into the crisscrossing of tracks,

Wonder how all the trains never seem lost.

For accidents, no care.

Here is our place, where no one dare go.

****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****

I’m tired of staying in this mishmash space,

There’s more to life than choking on coal dust.

My love, we’ll find our place.

We’re wolves, eyes gleaming, searching for home.

*****

Bitterness leaves me caught in this valley,

Is still and hot; we’ll move, find our names.

Wolves as you and I,

Our might is large; ignored, we’re crafty.

*****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****


“The Cave” – Mumford & Sons


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Writing

Poem: Quatrains: “What Never Heals”


broken-heart
http://www.pinterest.com

“I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.” 

― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

******

One day you promised me the pain,

Would eventually heal, I’d be —

Free from photographs and the shame.

While I am here, tears streaming.


Out of my mind, of my head,

Did you burn memories seething?

They never left my soul, they’re undead,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


You and her, it’s the cut deepest,

Never heals, it bleeds; you beaming

A baby’s breath; life makes me weak.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


At times, I’m over you completely,

Then, an image leaves me grieving.

Heart of the girl, a heart too sweet.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Conversation wouldn’t aid, I —

Learn to sew up all broken seams.

Especially in sleep, where I cry,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


A few hours, a few days and —

I’ll be fine again —breathing.

Didn’t have much, nothing so grand.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Let go, let me free, unburden me,

Stop snipping my wings, inhaling

The past’s ashes, it chokes me,

I was here, tears dried; now I’m free.


 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.