oneword.com

I am the myth fabricated by my own dreams and goals, and everybody–including myself–believes it to be one hundred per cent truth.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 07.06.2010 @ 8:33 am

It was a common mistake to make, saying hello to her on the way to the Underground. Perhaps he should’ve brought a bunch of flowers–nay, where would the point in that be?

Posted By Antonio Watson On 07.02.2010 @ 1:47 pm

The spike of a human being is their perfect personality, the one they do not follow; comprehend or even know of. An elusive stalagmite among many.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 06.29.2010 @ 6:35 am

Twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks upon twenty blocks and at the top place a throne. It’s not for you.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 04.26.2010 @ 12:19 pm

The time for labor has come, and those with picks and shovels venture into the uncanny depths of the mine. They brandish their weapons and strike at the rock and mud with more force than a drill. They’re only going to be paid a penny or two.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 03.11.2010 @ 3:36 am

There’s a witch in the Forest of Beyond, cruel as a wickerman, the devil himself. But, by the Gods, she makes a good pie. Blackberry, strawberry, liver and apple. Twenty-two recipes, all deliciously made. Shame she’s an evil old hag.

Posted By antonio watson On 10.13.2009 @ 4:34 am

The pool was out there, cold, univiting. He couldn’t swim, nor could he paddle. All he could see in its deep chlorine-filled waters was a blackness so fine, not even the sun could brighten it.

Posted By antonio watson On 10.11.2009 @ 11:55 am

grass growing, reaching, grasping for the rain, man made rain. It wants to grown, beat the flowers in the bed; what bullies they are, believing in their magnificence.

Posted By antonio watson On 10.09.2009 @ 1:53 pm

As Richard cut down another tree in the forest, he wondered about his life. He was a man with distinct taste, and always had wished to own a conservatory with orchids. He could sit in there with a foldable chair, sharing the sweat and heat with his newly acquired flowers.

Posted By antonio watson On 10.07.2009 @ 3:05 pm

The man and woman climbed from their metallic coffins, towards the surface so bright and dry. Looking out, they saw the streets, with rubble strewn like broken chandeliers. They had survived.

Posted By antonio watson On 10.06.2009 @ 8:23 am

Enrique tipped the glass of wine towards his lips, savouring the rich taste that sallied forth; stallions of grapes, galloping from the hills of Italy. Sweet, sweet texture.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 10.03.2009 @ 4:34 am

Dial that number, before it’s too late! Knocking at the door, the screams were almost inaudible, drowned out by the incessent ringing that plummeted the rooms into a state of chaos. Ring, ring, ring, dial that number, before they take it all away!

Posted By antonio watson On 10.22.2009 @ 9:01 am

Why don’t you shatter the wall with a blizzard, you sly dog. Cold, cold, cold breaks anyone and everything until their a trembling, illiterate husk and it is sad. So very sad to see them like this.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am

jangle jingle keys in my pocket. I want to throw them away, get rid of the doors in my house; just let in the fresh air! I don’t want to care about security. Let people in, let ‘em bloody steal. I don’t have anything of value and I’m happy. I don’t need no keys.

Posted By Antonio Watson On 02.09.2010 @ 4:39 am