Here today, gone tomorrow.Wishes:A final story before bed.
I wish they would shut up.Library visitors creed; seen, not heard.
How unfortunate...An unintentional disaster; self loathing ensues.
Noir nostalgiaOn these streets; a man enraptured.
WendigoWendigoThe most frightening thing about the cave is the air.It has a flatness and a lifelessness to it, in its own cold manner that makes the already pressing silence unbearable.Its stifling, in a wide open sort of a way, with its swollen rock and bone cocoons tightly knit together. One could almost imagine an infinity stuffed into the caverns, a stark imitation of the curling steel sky; ebony unrepenting.Yet sometimes the ersatz night is lit with stars.Some caverns are filled and frosted with phosphorescent light, dreamed up by creatures who have never seen the sun. In pools of ink, candy floss fish waft their way along, looking far too delicate for this cut glass world of broken bones in dog fur heaps and crosseyed tunnels.Sometimes, hands like pressed dirt and soil cradle them with tired, tired fingers, hardly daring to touch the baby's breath blush of light in the blood warm water. In the darkness, he often wishes that he could glow like them, with the radiance of the stars i
PeccaviWe cut to a theater drenched in burgundy velvet.The lights are dim, and the spindly candles garnering the vast walls shed a light that drips lazily across the theater's gilded occupants.Luxury and excess ooze from both the theater's patrons and their surroundings, from the gowns of the women (the highest quality, naturally) to the suits and robes clothing the men (all cut and tailored to the latest fashion). Servants in black scuttle like soot covered crabs among the rows of the thin porcelain elite, offering rare delicacies to the colorful multitude.The babbling crowd hushes as the lights dim further, and the massive curtains around the stage (each costing more than nine times the average working man's annual wages) part and split. The stage is sparsely lit, a strange pattern of yellowed light and blackness, with little in between.There is a man in the middle of the stage.He is alone, yet he stands upright under the heaviness of so many eyes.They are eager to see him, the
Promises"Thank you.""For what?""Not leaving."
Sat Nav Cross- roads.Left road? Wrong road. Cross.
MuteMy voice falters...Time marches on.
Loneliness At 4:03am Tick.Can't. Tock. Tick. Sleep. Tock.
My Favourite Love Story...Just you and me. And her.
Sans regrets: Part II"I miss you."Message not sent.
Sans regrets"I love you." Message not received
Parents In A Nutshell"Can we-""Nope""But I-""Nope."
Love:Here Today, Gone Tommorow"I love you!"...."Always."....."For now."
LoftwingsThey're soaring skyward... Farewell, dear friends.
HilariousKeep on laughing...you'll die first.
Here Today, Gone TomorrowIn sickness; in health.We promised.
TrophiesNo trophies, for we have memories
Dearly Departed HeartYou're silent. You fool no one.
which road have you chosen?Every road has the same Destiny...¿☼?
A tragic love of catsAdorable kittens! Alas, I am allergic...