Art-Journaling-Feb-2021-Week-2

JOURNALING - Bridget McPhee wasn’t anything like the other girls who lived on Fitzwilliam Square in Dublin. She was a headstrong lass who worked as a shop girl selling Irish lace. Her parents had long ago given up trying to marry her off to the many young lads who fancied her dark beauty and came calling to 15 Fitzwilliam Square only to be turned away. No, she wouldn’t marry just anyone. Bridget was secretly pining for the boy next door at Number 14. She didn’t even know his name, but that didn’t stop her trying to get him to notice her. Often she would position herself on their shared porch steps pretending to retie her shoe, hoping he would see her there and strike up a conversation.

CREDITS: LADY - from Pixy; BUILDING - by Skitterphoto at Pexels; MAN - from Pexels