Ah! What do you have hiding up your sleeve? She is someone who wears her heart on her sleeve. The cuffs of my sleeve unraveled. I am cold and wish I had worn an outfit with sleeves. Sleeve cover of a book?
I rolled it down over my elbow but it didnt go long enough to even reach my mid forarm. i was ashamed. The blouse looked nice on me, and i hoped the cop would assume I was doing better. I just dabbed some makeup under my eyes and gathered the cash I’d been saving since my arrest.
it’s chilly outside and she’s in her tiny socks and her first sweater and she watched him at the window as he shovels the snow off the driveway. when he finishes she meets him at the door with a glass of hot chocolate that has made a trail behind her all the way from the counter. she hands it to him as he takes off his mittens and he shrinks down beside her, kisses her on the forehead and says “thank you,” as he takes a big sip. turns out she made it for him when he started the job so by now his hot chocolate was luke warm. and as he stands back up and walks to his chair she skates along beside him hanging onto his sleeve
I patted her up and down, making sure she had nothing on her.
“She’s clear,” I said while backing up. Rob stepped in my place.
“Really?”, he scoffed. ” And to think Simon said she’ll be a challenge. Gag her.”
I stepped up to the girl, the gag ready in my hand. But just as I was about to lift it up to cover her mouth she grabbed my wrist and spun me around so I was pressed against her. She slowly brought up a knife and held it against my throat.
“Crap! I forgot to check up her sleeves,” I explained to Rob.
“Rookie mistake kid.”
I have a sleeve on my shirt. It covers my arm and keeps me warm. I can also have a sleeve in my notebook. It is like a folder where I can put special papers I want to keep.
Like how Blair Waldorf sewed a tiny gold heart pendant inside the sleeve of Nate Archibald’s sweater, I want our relationship to be open, out and about. I don’t want any mixed signals, secrets and hidden emotions. I want to let you know that even though we will encounter many hardships in the future, you will always have my heart.
I really admire people who wear their heart on their sleeve. For years, I had trained myself to not do so, because I was afraid. Not that I had any deep dark awful secret. Just because I was afraid of what people – friends, family, acquaintances, strangers – think of me. Too boring. Unlike them. Not good enough basically. I thought it was easier to be quiet, try to blend in, agree with everything said so people would like me.
Unlearning that is going to be a long process. I’ve only realized recently what I’ve done to myself – after years of pretending, I have no idea what my own personality is like. I want to try though now. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve. It seems so freeing. So happy.
It was delicately and discreetly slipped up my sleeve so no one would be the wiser. Even while it hung in the balance passing through that metal portal I felt as if my whole world was crashing down around me in a brief and instant feeling of desolation. But, I knew what was at stake and that I had no choice.
The Sleeve is an important part of the shirt as we can see that the sleeve covers up our arms and protects us from parasites such as mosquitoes and it intends to save us from different types of illnesses. It also works as a shield for protecting our skin against sun rays.
During the flag football game the quarterback ripped his sleeve. it was during one of the last plays on the game so it really didn’t affect his playing. Whenever he got home he had his mother sew it back together. He ended up getting a whole new jersey 2 games later because he ripped it once again. This time it was not able to be repaired.
Walking softly, Issa crouched low and pulled the dagger from her sleeve. The lights ahead were bright and the door to the tavern was open. The city was silent and the hair on the back of her neck stood at the the eerie thought of a silent tavern.
Even though the burglur pointed a gun at my head i still had a few tricks up my sleeve. I quickly turned around, sqeezed his hand, snatched the gun, and shot him square in the chest. As his blood rushed down I walked away and left him there till someone found him. If someone ever did.
without even thinking about it, he held up his sleeve and wiped the child’s runny nose and crying eyes. In that moment she knew she would marry him one day. Everything was going to be ok.
I tugged and pulled at the mysterious force of which, in the darkness of the jungle, had grabbed hold of my sleeve. There was no other human on the island, at least not one that I had come to meet in my exile here. I reached for the source of the tugging and pulling and felt a prick. A thornbush! With no time to lose, for dawn was near, I ripped the sleeve at the shoulder sacrificed it to the plant. Shrugging, I tore the other sleeve and threw it in my pack, among a plethora of other necessities. Then, glancing behind me at the rising sun, I pushed myself forward, deeper into the jungle to fulfill my quest.
something to put things in. you might need long ones if it is cold outside. i think about golf balls and golfing…..probably gonna need multiples ones to get through a round…or maybe not
I hate sleeves in the summer time. I would much rather let the air keep me cool and comfortable. When I am wearing a dress shirt, I always have to roll my sleeves up. I could wear short sleeved dress shirts, but I hate the way they look.
He completed his set up. wiggle, wiggle, tap, tap. slow on the backswing, follow through, head down….yup. OB reach into the bag for another sleeve of balls
She quickly pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a double-edged dagger. It was not you’re ordinary dagger, it was curved towards the tip and had boomerang-like characteristics. That is it quickly sliced through three necks before hurtling into the hands of its owner.
She looked upon the scars, although they were shining down on her face so peacefully, her mind drifted off back to what could have happened. She pulled her sleeves down as a cold breeze was approaching her. She looked down on them, maroon sleeves with faded white stripes.
he like to wear his sleeve long because it hide his armes and then no one can see. not even him. and if he can’t see then maybe the marks aren’t real and maybe everything is not so bad. he is a loser all right but those marks will just mark him a ssomeone who don’t support the loser “tag”. So long sleeves is it even in the summer when just breathing make you suffocate.
Branches of scars cut from the past covered his forearm like wild vines. She never asked why he wore long-sleeves in July, and for that alone, he loved her.
i am thinking of black and white goodness housed in cylindrical try w/ a resealable roof. Hard ti eat just one. Impossible to eat without milk! OREO
Love this concept
Discoloured enveloped edges. Keeper of button jewels and white tissued flags.
Ah! What do you have hiding up your sleeve? She is someone who wears her heart on her sleeve. The cuffs of my sleeve unraveled. I am cold and wish I had worn an outfit with sleeves. Sleeve cover of a book?
I rolled it down over my elbow but it didnt go long enough to even reach my mid forarm. i was ashamed. The blouse looked nice on me, and i hoped the cop would assume I was doing better. I just dabbed some makeup under my eyes and gathered the cash I’d been saving since my arrest.
it’s chilly outside and she’s in her tiny socks and her first sweater and she watched him at the window as he shovels the snow off the driveway. when he finishes she meets him at the door with a glass of hot chocolate that has made a trail behind her all the way from the counter. she hands it to him as he takes off his mittens and he shrinks down beside her, kisses her on the forehead and says “thank you,” as he takes a big sip. turns out she made it for him when he started the job so by now his hot chocolate was luke warm. and as he stands back up and walks to his chair she skates along beside him hanging onto his sleeve
I patted her up and down, making sure she had nothing on her.
“She’s clear,” I said while backing up. Rob stepped in my place.
“Really?”, he scoffed. ” And to think Simon said she’ll be a challenge. Gag her.”
I stepped up to the girl, the gag ready in my hand. But just as I was about to lift it up to cover her mouth she grabbed my wrist and spun me around so I was pressed against her. She slowly brought up a knife and held it against my throat.
“Crap! I forgot to check up her sleeves,” I explained to Rob.
“Rookie mistake kid.”
Daisy wouldn’t stop nibbling on her left sleeve. After years of contemplative gnawing, it’s become ragged and stretched.
I have a sleeve on my shirt. It covers my arm and keeps me warm. I can also have a sleeve in my notebook. It is like a folder where I can put special papers I want to keep.
Like how Blair Waldorf sewed a tiny gold heart pendant inside the sleeve of Nate Archibald’s sweater, I want our relationship to be open, out and about. I don’t want any mixed signals, secrets and hidden emotions. I want to let you know that even though we will encounter many hardships in the future, you will always have my heart.
He wiped the sweat away with his sleeve, blood spatter smearing his forehead and trickling down his cheek. He didn’t want it to end this way.
I really admire people who wear their heart on their sleeve. For years, I had trained myself to not do so, because I was afraid. Not that I had any deep dark awful secret. Just because I was afraid of what people – friends, family, acquaintances, strangers – think of me. Too boring. Unlike them. Not good enough basically. I thought it was easier to be quiet, try to blend in, agree with everything said so people would like me.
Unlearning that is going to be a long process. I’ve only realized recently what I’ve done to myself – after years of pretending, I have no idea what my own personality is like. I want to try though now. I want to wear my heart on my sleeve. It seems so freeing. So happy.
It was delicately and discreetly slipped up my sleeve so no one would be the wiser. Even while it hung in the balance passing through that metal portal I felt as if my whole world was crashing down around me in a brief and instant feeling of desolation. But, I knew what was at stake and that I had no choice.
The Sleeve is an important part of the shirt as we can see that the sleeve covers up our arms and protects us from parasites such as mosquitoes and it intends to save us from different types of illnesses. It also works as a shield for protecting our skin against sun rays.
During the flag football game the quarterback ripped his sleeve. it was during one of the last plays on the game so it really didn’t affect his playing. Whenever he got home he had his mother sew it back together. He ended up getting a whole new jersey 2 games later because he ripped it once again. This time it was not able to be repaired.
i’m waring a long sleeve shirt today and it is not hot so i can were it today i love it
Walking softly, Issa crouched low and pulled the dagger from her sleeve. The lights ahead were bright and the door to the tavern was open. The city was silent and the hair on the back of her neck stood at the the eerie thought of a silent tavern.
Even though the burglur pointed a gun at my head i still had a few tricks up my sleeve. I quickly turned around, sqeezed his hand, snatched the gun, and shot him square in the chest. As his blood rushed down I walked away and left him there till someone found him. If someone ever did.
without even thinking about it, he held up his sleeve and wiped the child’s runny nose and crying eyes. In that moment she knew she would marry him one day. Everything was going to be ok.
I tugged and pulled at the mysterious force of which, in the darkness of the jungle, had grabbed hold of my sleeve. There was no other human on the island, at least not one that I had come to meet in my exile here. I reached for the source of the tugging and pulling and felt a prick. A thornbush! With no time to lose, for dawn was near, I ripped the sleeve at the shoulder sacrificed it to the plant. Shrugging, I tore the other sleeve and threw it in my pack, among a plethora of other necessities. Then, glancing behind me at the rising sun, I pushed myself forward, deeper into the jungle to fulfill my quest.
something to put things in. you might need long ones if it is cold outside. i think about golf balls and golfing…..probably gonna need multiples ones to get through a round…or maybe not
I hate sleeves in the summer time. I would much rather let the air keep me cool and comfortable. When I am wearing a dress shirt, I always have to roll my sleeves up. I could wear short sleeved dress shirts, but I hate the way they look.
basketball, long, short, protective, branding, card holder
He completed his set up. wiggle, wiggle, tap, tap. slow on the backswing, follow through, head down….yup. OB reach into the bag for another sleeve of balls
She quickly pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a double-edged dagger. It was not you’re ordinary dagger, it was curved towards the tip and had boomerang-like characteristics. That is it quickly sliced through three necks before hurtling into the hands of its owner.
She looked upon the scars, although they were shining down on her face so peacefully, her mind drifted off back to what could have happened. She pulled her sleeves down as a cold breeze was approaching her. She looked down on them, maroon sleeves with faded white stripes.
he like to wear his sleeve long because it hide his armes and then no one can see. not even him. and if he can’t see then maybe the marks aren’t real and maybe everything is not so bad. he is a loser all right but those marks will just mark him a ssomeone who don’t support the loser “tag”. So long sleeves is it even in the summer when just breathing make you suffocate.
Branches of scars cut from the past covered his forearm like wild vines. She never asked why he wore long-sleeves in July, and for that alone, he loved her.