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because love is a lesson in trial and errorI wish I had the words to tell you what I mean. I used to store sentences between my breaths – things that I couldn’t say at the moment, but wanted to remember. Now I can barely string together enough nouns and verbs to make you understand exactly what you mean to me. And I’m afraid.
I’m afraid that if I can’t get it together fast enough I’ll lose you. It’s like you're water slipping through my fingers and I’m not quick enough to chase you through the currents. I know enough to know that you’re wild and free in a way that I’ll never be and maybe I’m jealous of that. Or maybe I
Futuro-Mamá esa chica se parece mucho a la tía Isabella -cuando escucho decir esto a Amanda, dirigiéndose a la Candace del futuro, una sola idea salta en mi cabeza haciendo eco e inevitablemente tengo que decirla en voz alta.
-Oíste eso Candace, voy a casarme con Phineas!
-O Ferb -me responde ella dejando mi mente en blanco.
Dirijo mi vista al peliverde y este me giña un ojo mientras hace un gesto con su mano señalándome. Bueno lo que dice Candace es verdad, para ser tía de Amanda tendría que casarme con Phineas o... Ferb.
Miro fijamente al chico frente a mí y de pronto todo desa
LindaI’m not what you would call a special woman - I live in a small town, with my husband, have an ordinary job and live an ordinary wife. In one way, however, I guess you could say I have an extraordinary life - because every midsummer’s day, I seem to get robbed in my own house. I don’t know what I do to deserve it, but that’s what happens.
I still remember the first year it happened - we had just moved into the house, with my daughter who was then about twelve, and she had gone to a friend’s house while my husband was out to work. I was taking the day off, doing some things around the house, and in those days
Music Shuffle (Kyrie)Cage the Elephant – “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked”
The sun finally sank below the horizon. Under the cover of a moonless darkness, the proxies slipped stealthily between the trees. The densely packed forest offered excellent protection from peering eyes, and so familiar were they with the many pitfalls and snaring brambles that they glided along effortlessly.
Masky took the lead, guiding his two charges along toward the night’s goal. Hoodie followed at a short distance, his video camera fully charged and stocked with a fresh tape. Close beside him was Kyrie, bringing up the rear and making sure the
The Blood on Our HandsBut it feels so good.
To touch the open slit is pleasurable beyond belief. Of all of my fantasies, it was never conceivable that I wanted this. It was never that I felt so satisfied drenched in the afterglow of my adrenaline-bred homicide.
The swooping curdling in my veins remains beyond the last breath of him. It feels like I need more, like the blood on my hands isn't enough to slake the drought in my bones that vengeance has brought. My fingertips touch at the open gash in the left-center of his chest, swimming there with dainty strokes in the fresh, bubbling blood.
What have I done...? And why do I need more? Why does it feel like the
they marked me blue and yellow, mama.between graffitied walls and a lone, chipped sink, they watched me curl in upon myself and combust. it was the only way i knew of to stop the swirling in my hips and heels.
a week later i found emma, the smallest of the vultures, kneeling at my altar. and with her wing-bones hunching and heaving, she mimicked my combustion.
but her eyes were violet when she saw me. violet and brimming with the emptiness of her heels. and i knew. i knew that this could not hold her the way it held me.
and mama, that hurt more than anything. her heels were empty, mama. empty. empty. empty. the way mine should have been, if only you had kept papa away.
if only you had kept away the first vulture i had ever know. if only, mama. if only.
Sweet Nothings'if i could, i would devour you. i would eat you whole, consume you mind, body, and soul. because i am a selfish person. i want you all to myself. no one else may have you.' he said to her, as they lay tangled in each other.
her reply came with a sleepy smile.
'there is a part of my mind which understands the intended romance in your statement. that part is wooed by it. there is also a part which insists upon my realizing the reality, the literal. you, my dear, are a cannibal.'
he placed a kiss on her head.
'well, we'll have to work hard then, to make sure that you are only wooed. we will make you want to be eaten. we will make it so that part of your mind which is literal, is quiet, so when i whisper sweet nothings into your ears, you are completely swept away. lifted off your feet by my obvious romantic intention.'
The Cat and IA biography of myself.
Real Name: I’m not telling, but KP stands for Kev Pickering
Nickname: I refer you to the previous answer
Birthday: July 16, 1963
Current Residence: North West London, United Kingdom
Height: 5’ 8”
Weight: Trying to lose it, thank you
Hair Color: Dark brown but turning grey as it recedes.
Eye Color: Hazel
Likes: Films, musicals, fine literature, my family, and graphic novels.
Dislikes: Shellfish, Lager, “Scripted Reality” shows.
Personality: I’m very shy until someone gets to know me, but those who do tell me I can be a very kind, gentle and yet silly person.
Smoke-stacked LungsLighting her cigarette, Mara watched the smoke trail up into the sky and block the blue the storm clouds couldn’t reach. She sucked in the unfiltered ash, closed her eyes, and marveled at the warmth that traveled down into her chest. The ash held her closer than anyone in the city had. She smiled, cracking open her eyes, but all that greeted her was wind blowing out the embers of her cigarette as tar slithered down her throat. She coughed, crushing the cigarette on the dashboard. She started her black Ford’s ignition, and watched the exhaust lingering around the car before the wind carried it away. With goose bumps, Mara sped onto
The ThunderstormI picked up the new dial phone I barely used to call her father. Thunder roared as the rain completely drenched my window. I bit my lip and my heart raced as I picked up a signal. The dial rang for awhile, and I was almost a little worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of him. However, at the last minute, I heard a deep, cheerful voice from the other end.
"Hello, sir. This is Mr. Rob MacLachlan, CEO of the Fitzpatrick Company. I'm just calling to say that your daughter might have to spend the night, here."
There was a dreadful pause on the phone.
"Have you listened to the radio, recently?"
"Nah, we can't 'ford a telephon
I need you home...the ceiling's dirty.Pairing: Phan/Anti-Phan??
Warning: Possibly triggering
Disclaimer: I do not own Dan or Phil (sadly). This never happened and is purely fictional.
Summary: Dan's lost. He doesn't know how long it's been. He needs someone to save him.
I don’t know how long it’s been. 3 days? 2 weeks? 5 months? I can’t remember the last time I got up from his bed. It smells just like him, vanilla and raspberries - it’s like he’s still here. But he’s not.
He left a long, long time ago. We’d been arguing for a while, I’d said - well more like shouted - some mean things, he’d
The Raven and The Wolf You said you wanted to stay and listen to my whispers but I told you it's too late (early) and you need sleep.
I held you and whispered poetry into your hair as you fell asleep. I listened to the way your heart beat and it seemed to say one word; home, home, home. The rise and fall of your chest soothed me more than any drug ever could.
I used to say I didn't believe in love but as I stared at your sleeping face, traced the contours and creases - the blemishes and scars, I couldn't help but think that maybe ... Just maybe this was it.
I stroked your autumn-kissed hair and rested my cheek against your chest. I lay there and thought, not fo
I hate those infernal hounds.
I can hear them approaching. I regret now that I have not walled off this little corner of the forest that I have chosen to call my own. I am tired, I am hungry, and I am weak from the venom of those spiders. I fear I have just enough time to fashion a spear before they come for me.
Wilson's hands shook as he read the words in the dying firelight. The darkness pressed in against him all around, crawling inward as the fire sputtered.
Those were the last words on the page. Dark spots marred the edges of the papyrus, dried deep into the reeds. A thick swipe of brown streaked along the bottom as
Maiden I can never leave this island. That's what they told me on my eighth birthday. Happy Birthday, they said. Then, you can never leave this island, Guardian Maiden. Their exact words. How was I supposed to take all that in?
I didn't bother opening my presents.
I stayed in my room all day.
What was I supposed to do?
Eight years later, sixteen years old. I watch the ferry come and go. Days like this, I skip school. What's the point, I often thought. I'm stuck here, for the rest of my life. That was, until I met him.
He came off the ferry, lost like most newcomers to the island. He could have talked to anyone at the port, but instead, fo
The Gentleman and the Lady She arose from a deep slumber. She sat up, hearing a gentle tap at her chamber doors.
"Who's there?" A soft whisper fluttered across the grand room.
The knock came yet again. She slid out of bed, the candle light quivering from her movements. In silence, bare footsteps floated across the bedroom, her nightgown hovering and gliding behind her.
"Who's there?" She uttered again, hoping for any sort of answer.
Another knock came as the only reply. Her hand shook as she placed her frail fingers on the cool door knob. Nervously, she opened the luxurious door.
A gentleman stood at the entrance. He removed his hat as she bowed to the shiv
Muted Melody Danny sat along the boardwalk, strumming his guitar for spare change. He started slowly, with a mellow tune. The stings cried of love lost at sea and a new one springing forth from the same sea.
As he finished that tune, he followed up with a faster paced hymn of two lovers dancing in the moonlight.
Some people would stop to listen, few dropped change, but a few others didn't enough the music. One or two jokesters dropped trash in the guitar case.
At the end of the day, he managed to charm a collective of five dollars. He spent half of it on a cheeseburger at the burger pit at the end of the boardwalk.
"Danny boy! The regular?" The f
Egg Foo Yon I found it at the bottom of egg drop soup. There wasn't much to think about. I ate the soup like I normally did, throwing in some of those fried crisp strips as I ate it.
When the yellow disappeared, leaving the porcelain white behind, I saw the strip of paper that clung to the curves of the bowl. It was a forgotten fortune. Someone left it behind and the under paid washer missed it.
I peeled it off with my spoon and tried to read it. A surprising trip will catch you by surprise. Well, I would think so.
As I stood to leave, I bumped into a waiter. He fell to the floor along with the tray of food he was carrying.
"Ah, miss, I'm so sor
Birds of a Feather We've been friends since elementary. We've seen each other at our highest and lowest points, at beginning and endings. We've both have had our share of love and hate. We've both have had the occasional misplaced feelings, quickly shelving those emotions once the words escaped our mouths. Today, after twenty years of friendship, we've decided to move in together. It was something we've always talked and joked about.
"Would you two get a room already?" Janis, one of my girl friends, often said. I know what she really meant, but for us to take it to this extreme is something else.
At first, it was like an extended sleep over. When we were y
Brain WaspsBrain Wasps
I am on the verge of tears. Why is this so hard? I think furiously, twirling the cylinder of Chapstick around in my fingers. I shut my eyes tight and try again.
I reach out to set the Chapstick on the nightstand beside my bed, but seconds after I release the tube I have to grab it again. Wrong, the brain wasps tell me, you have to get it just right.
I briefly consider hurling the thing across the room, but I know that I’ll just have to get out of bed to pick it up again. I am trapped in my own compulsions.
I know it’s stupid, and that’s part of what’s bothering me so much. Why can’t I just p
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`ChewedKandi has certainly gone out of her way to keep the vector community on the right path. Always making sure that her talents are infinitely scalable, Sharon has put her bezier curves to excellent use, and firmly anchored herself as an inspirational leader. We're absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for June 2013 to `ChewedKandi. Congratulations, Sharon! Read More