Philip Rivers Children

Posted on4/12/2022by admin

Philip Rivers Children Names

Status: Finished Genre:Fantasy House:Booksie Classic

Since i was a child i always enjoyed scribbling down stories on notebooks my mother had found for me, my grandparents encouraged me to write; enter contests and the like. But i was just a child then, how could i write about a world bigger than me, a world that I had barely seen, and knew nothing about. All i knew of the world that we have all grown up in was my first school, the first house that I could remember, the first room that i was able to organise myself. To be honest, only a few years on I can not know much of this world, so I prefer to write of another. Another world that does not include this one, but since I can not imagine something that I have never seen, it has to relate to the world I live in as much as any other fantasy world does. My hero, of course a girl since I can relate to her so well, I bequeathed the name Carmen. I’ve always loved the name, and when I was drawing her; which I liked to do before I wrote my ideas down,I decided the crudely drawn animation looked enough like a Carmen to be given such a name. She was a river child, not a different race, but a child of deep waters, with a shallow bank. Rich enough to own her own river, or at least her parents’ river (though, in reality, it was not actually a river, more of a stream that held no threat to the child of 10) and charming enough to enchant the prince charming of my story – though, I gave him more depth than the average prince charming – my hero, young as she was, could only have prospered in the world of which she knew nothing.

When Philip Rivers first started tossing footballs as a high-school ball boy, he heaved them any way he could. The throwing motion stuck — and success soon followed. (except in children. Philip Rivers and his family Philip Rivers In June of this year, the Rivers family relocated from Florida to Indianapolis, the home of the quarterback’s new club.

Aaron was his name. A handsome young man, perhaps about 11 Carmen would guess, they did not exchange ages because Carmen’s mother demonstrated that ones age was never to be given, and therefore Carmen did not ask for it. Aaron’s father had a poor mans job, Carmen never really knew what it was for Aaron did not know. She guessed a blacksmith, but only because she needed to imagine the father in her head doing something – she couldn’t picture him in the house she knew, and the rest of the world she had only seen from the town her governess sometimes brought her to. It is a strange existence, to know only of ones home and a few shops besides, but of course, Carmen could not have been aware of this since it was the only life she had ever known.

Aaron was wiser to the world. He had known many of the forests surrounding their tiny village, of which Carmen’s mother presided over. He knew of the lakes and the beasts, the wind and the rain, the hardships of winter and the gifts of the spring. He too was a river child, and met his princess one autumn, when the leaves were becoming their annual shade of red and gold, and the sky was becoming pinker ever earlier. Unaware of quite what he would find when he went to his not quite favourite spot along that particular stream. He was looking for berries, as one does when one has little during the autumn months. What was stranger was that Carmen too fancied a walk along the river, she decided that a berry sounded like quite a treat after her light supper not long before. I suppose you could say that the two were bound to meet, living so close; Aaron’s family lived in a small house the other side of the river. You could not see it from Carmen’s grand abode, but it was there, humble and homely.

You could look for decades and not find a more obvious and romantic setting for the two children to first meet. A cliché so sickening that the most obvious notion would be to stop reading here and decide that another fairytale written by a starry eyed romantic fresh out of childhood is not what you want to be reading. But I ask you to read on into my head, know the world that I live in, or at least the world that I allow the character after my own heart to reside.