Wuthering Fantasy

The wind is howling through Vegas tonight…it has been all day. The skies look menacingly-stormy, but alas, we’ve seen nary a drop of rain.

Still, there was something fierce, and wild, and moody about the day. I stepped out of work near dusk and the coupling of fiery sunset, with somber clouds, was a scene right out of a Brontë novel and I got a little swept away.

I was already feeling a bit like the heroine of my own love story (i.e. I was wearing makeup, a skirt, sexy boots, and my hair was actually styled!), so it wasn’t hard for me to jump right into character. The wind whipped my hair across my face, and as my eyes drank in the fierceness of that sunset…suddenly, I was Cathy – a young girl on the rugged, wind-swept moors of Yorkshire.


My heart full of recklessness and wild abandon, all I would ever need is freedom to roam the moors and get lost in a field of heather, with my Heathcliff by my side.

And this…this is my Heathcliff.


What? A girl woman can dream, right? Because Tom Hardy *is* dreamy.

Alas, someone asked me if was leaving, because she wanted my parking space. My reverie rudely interrupted, I decided I may as well go home…which is decidedly not in Yorkshire.


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