zoboomafoo latinoamerica

1TzobZ18

dkhmhgjj

yuijkhnbjhgbv

I gazed upon the ethereal face looking back at me. The clear water that reflects it catches my attention and I realize how such purity completes the picturesque view I'm basking my eyes in. For more than a fracture of a second, I felt envy run through my veins. Oh, to have a seemingly-perfect life. I tapped on the reflected tattoo, water dancing in ripples under my touch. "Hiraeth," I muttered. almost inaudible, drowned by nature's very own whispers. Tattoos don't need to have meaning. Some just have them because it just feels right. In my case, I guess both conventions apply. Hiraeth. a Welsh word that holds different meanings. It can mean homesickness of a home you can never return to, or never was. It may also mean nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. I had this inked on me for a reason. Maybe it was the first as I've always longed for a place where I can feel safe, where I can draw strength. My querencia. It could be the second. Memories have never left me since it flooded not only my mind but also my heart. What I had wasn't perfect. But it was definitely more than enough. But I've also yearned for something. Perhaps recognition? Attention? Appreciation? Love? The last one... possibly. For the sole reason that I regret meeting you. I regret being drawn by your eyes and your heart. I regret a lot of things in my life but the one I truthfully feel a wave of remorse for... was loving you. I saw the reflection of a bitter smile that formed on my lips. Perhaps it was all of those reasons. Lies. Betrayals. Pain. Excruciating pain. Death. It all leads back to you. For a moment, I stupidly and blindly assumed you were my haven. Turns out, you were gonna unleash the hell I didn't expect. One word holds thousands of memories. One word describes the infinite emptiness in me. One word.... Hiraeth

Follows a robot zombie apocalypse accidentally triggered by a Luddite cult who, fearing the rise of artificial intelligence in 2025, unleash a black-market virus that infects everyday household robots, service androids, and manufacturing units. The malware rewrites them with a primal hunger to consume and replicate, scavenging other machines and even harvesting humans for biological materials to fuel their replication drives.

The story of a doctor and a lawyer.

Era de conocimiento común que Lucas Ryan se había casado conmigo únicamente por resentimiento, incapaz de estar con la mujer que realmente adoraba. Durante nuestros cinco años de unión, él interpretó el papel del esposo ideal en público—un célebre especialista del corazón admirado por muchos. Sin embargo, dentro de los confines de nuestro hogar, era distante y frío, frecuentemente solicitando el divorcio. Entonces Evelyn Snow, su primer amor, regresó al país debido a problemas de salud. Lucas se dedicó a su cuidado, raramente alejándose de su lado. Incluso me advirtió repetidamente: "La condición cardíaca de Eve es frágil. Si te atreves a aparecer y causarle estrés, nuestro matrimonio terminará para siempre". Por fin, durante su centésima súplica por el divorcio, cedí. Lo que Lucas desconocía, sin embargo, era que ya estaba esperando un hijo suyo. En camino al juzgado para completar los trámites del divorcio, sufrí un accidente vehicular. Mi vida y la de mi bebé nonato se extinguieron en un instante. Lucas no recibió los papeles del divorcio ese día, pero sí recibió la noticia de que Evelyn había encontrado un donante de corazón ideal. Eufórico, se apresuró a regresar al centro médico y realizó la operación él mismo, extrayendo el corazón de mi cuerpo sin vida e implantándolo en el de ella. No fue hasta después que recordó nuestro divorcio—pero para entonces, mi teléfono nunca volvería a sonar.

Hannah vive entre páginas y tazas de café. Ama las novelas románticas, pero está convencida de que el amor real no es para ella. Hasta que Luke aparece en su vida... con una sonrisa, un café caliente y la extraña habilidad de colarse en su corazón. ¿Será posible que lo que tanto evitaba se convierta en la historia más bonita de su vida?

ZOK In a world that is both a dying factory and a poisoned forest, two men who should never have crossed paths have already destroyed each other once. A broken engineer, made of flesh stitched together with iron, falls a thousand meters and survives. A warlord with a black axe believes he has killed him and moves on. But someone—something—saw everything from the bottom of the abyss. Someone pulled the engineer from the mud, repaired him like one repairs an ancient weapon, and now waits patiently for him to open his eyes. Three months of darkness. Three months for the world to continue creaking, burning, rotting. When Gordon Towerfall wakes up, he will no longer be the same man Rolfe Middleton threw off the bridge. And whoever wakes up with him may not be a man at all. ZOK is about to discover that the real monster was neither the machine nor the flesh. It was patience that waited for the two to meet again.

It has been argued that horror films, and violent movies, spark aggression and inspiration to commit horrible acts of violence. Though this argument has been countered, let's take a look into the life of one, Zoey Morgan. An eighteen-year-old high school student, living in an abusive household, with the constant and daily harassments from rivals at school. What will happen when this abused, and lonely art student finds great enjoyment in watching the suffering of others? In order for her to keep this desire a secret, she must juggle it alongside her daily life, and her growing feelings for her best friend. This book contains relatively short chapters. Something you can pick up, and read in a few minutes instead of sitting for half an hour to read one chapter. Author's Note I am a huge fan of horror movies and read a lot of Stephen King, who is probably my favorite author. So, I wanted to write a horror story, but I'm not that good at it, so instead, I came up with an idea I'm much more satisfied with. I want to write something disturbing, and horrifying. I want to see just how far my imagination will go. Trust me when I say that some scenes may not be for the faint of heart.