Entries By Laura
Displaying 241 To 270 Of 1,350 Entries
swing
canta, canta, baila, brinca y nada Esto es todo lo que necesita un autentico aventurero. Ahora imagina tu vida a al revés…
Posted By Laura On 03.06.2012 @ 10:45 pm
Swinging high into the air, young children feel so free. I remember when I was a child and I used to pretend that I could fly up high in the sky and no one would be able to reach me. Gone are those days now, but m
Posted By Laura On 03.06.2012 @ 9:12 pm
Swinging on a swing set. Swing dancing. It’s such a beautiful dance. I dont know how people do it. its such fast movement. i’d be afraid someone would drop me. or i’d trip over my own feet.
i once fell off a swing set. i would do the thing where i would let the swing get as high as it would go, and then i decided to jump off. really i didnt jump, i fell.
Posted By Laura On 03.06.2012 @ 8:21 pm
professional
She was a professional; all legs and teeth. She laughed when he wasn’t funny, didn’t slap his sweaty face when he touched her ass and smiled throughout the dull evening at his tedious conference. He wished his wife was more like her.
Posted By Laura On 03.06.2012 @ 7:05 am
I am a professional. I am a professional pilot. I fly planes. I dip, I soar, I dive, I tumble through the clouds and wonder how in the world can this be considered a real profession. It’s ecstasy.
Posted By Laura On 03.05.2012 @ 2:32 pm
town
i live in a town named la canada i love it very much but there are a lot of women that are all about society. i try to fit in but my mother is terrible and doesn’t let me do any of the fun stuff all of the other girls do with their moms. i try to encourage my mom to meet new people but she doesn’t like our town. if she didn’t like it so much why wouldn’t she want to move?
Posted By laura On 03.04.2012 @ 8:52 pm
I went to a town and saw the whole town in one day, it was beautiful, so were the people, and so were the animals, and so was the atmosphere, and so was I.
Posted By Laura On 03.04.2012 @ 5:34 pm
sweat
He said he should shower, he was sweaty from the gym, but she couldn’t wait. She had him on the welcome mat.
Posted By Laura On 03.04.2012 @ 10:30 am
weave
I think of people weaving at the dance center, with different fabrics of their lives. I wonder what I would choose. Because I’d want to weave through something that shows me But not something that I’d be willing to part with like my old baby blanket or favorite dress it’s interesting and I wonder why some of those people chose what they did…
Posted By Laura On 03.02.2012 @ 7:46 pm
I imagine an old indian lady weaving a colorful basket in her hut, so full of happiness and joy, she’s also surrounded by her family, even though the hut is not very big, it is filled with love. She would never want to be anywhere else in the world.
Posted By Laura On 03.02.2012 @ 3:40 pm
lantern
The sea of orange lanterns flew through the sky like bubbles blown by a child. I watched them all, until the last one was too far away to glimpse. They snaked around houses, had near misses with trees and managed to get away, high into the night air. It was a beautiful sight and an even more beautiful notion. It just wouldn’t bring him back, would it?
Posted By Laura On 03.02.2012 @ 9:03 am
I used a lantern during the storm. It really helped me see in the darkness. Toward the end of the rain and thunder, my lantern began running our of kerosene. I was afraid that it wouldn’t last out the thunderstorm.
Posted By Laura On 03.02.2012 @ 5:42 am
The lanterns dull light failed to illuminate the stone path as I made my way through the forest. The cold air biting at my fingers as they grasped its handle tighter. The moon above shone brightly. It’s luminosity putting the lantern to shame. But I was thankful for the comfort of having something to hold and distract myself.
Posted By laura On 03.02.2012 @ 4:55 am
generator
She was bored of everything but mainly herself. She longed for something ‘wow’ to happen, to break her routine and give her a thrill. So she circled the advertisement in the paper and went online. She typed her name into a stripper name generator and Sapphire Spankwhip it was. Her new life.
Posted By Laura On 02.29.2012 @ 1:46 am
crescent
The crescent moon, Jupiter and Venus all in a row in the beautiful black sky. So bright and breathtaking, she realised that she was simply a speck of dust on this earth, no more, and resolved to stop becoming involved with the mere trivia of life. It was about time she helped all the petty, inconsequential factors fade away. This was good for her. She smiled a real smile for the first time in years.
Posted By Laura On 02.28.2012 @ 12:48 am
popcorn
His friends joked that he was addicted to popcorn. Sometimes he sat through absurd plot lines at the cinema just for that sweet smell and the feel of the large box on his lap. It was when he started making popcorn sandwiches to take to work, and sticking them to his face, that his friends really saw the obsession.
Posted By Laura On 02.26.2012 @ 11:34 pm
blast
of a cannon, or now a days, fireworks. Celebrating is what I think of with this word. “It was a blast!”
Posted By Laura On 02.25.2012 @ 5:39 am
She still hears it; the blast, it rings in her ears like an eternal scream. She sees it in her dreams but nothing else. Her eyes are fused shut.
Posted By Laura On 02.25.2012 @ 2:05 am
medical
She loves a bit of medical: self-diagnosis, fitting the symptoms to match her mood; which is usually desperate tinged with anger. She’s dull, you see, and has to find a way to capture some attention. Since being a little girl with a grazed knee, she realised this was the fastest way to get what she wanted. Along came tissues, cream and sympathy, plasters and cuddles. And so on this bleak, boring Thursday, she simply threw herself down the stairs.
Posted By Laura On 02.23.2012 @ 12:14 am
gallery
Every day at 11.45am he came here, to the gallery. He walked up the flight of stairs and sat on the same bench. He lost himself in her eyes, her long chestnut locks and creamy breasts. Such a beauty. A sensual wickedness in her expression that weakened his trembling knees. He adored her, dreamed of her, wanted her. The girl in the painting.
Posted By Laura On 02.22.2012 @ 4:28 am
i want to have my paintings in the gallery and i want to have my own gallery where i will also serve food I’ll cook for guests. i love going to galleries and the time you spent there appreciating art and the conversations you start there.
Posted By laura On 02.22.2012 @ 1:22 am
curse
She’d cursed him; a spell, for eternity. No other woman would compare, he would be consumed with lust for her. Always.
Posted By Laura On 02.21.2012 @ 3:31 am
balloon
Something wasn’t right about that boy. I watched the small children with sticky smiles, running around the garden, the hum of their happy laughter released into the hot June air. My eyes fell back to him, such an odd child with a surprisingly world weary expression, popping the balloons and halting the fun.
Posted By Laura On 02.20.2012 @ 12:11 am
track
You tracked me down. I see you lurking. Out there. Lingering. Like the scars you left me with.
Posted By Laura On 02.18.2012 @ 4:33 am
ants
She watched the people marching to work, like ants methodically going about their business. Then she let go of the ledge and hurtled towards them.
Posted By Laura On 02.17.2012 @ 7:56 am
flirt
Eyes meet. Linger. Pupils dilate. Dart away. Slow smile. A finger curls her hair. Heart racing. Is he looking? Yes. Licked lips. Imagination running riot. Dizzy head. Giddy nipples. Body burning. Pang of desire. A furtive glance. Study his features. Undressing him with hungry eyes. The need to be touched. There. A smouldering gaze. A beckoning finger. The window cleaner obliged.
Posted By Laura On 02.16.2012 @ 5:08 am
clue
He used more aftershave these days, showered immediately upon his return, worked late yet carried an aroma of alcohol and good times. She missed all the clues.
Posted By Laura On 02.15.2012 @ 2:12 am
carnival
Her friends ate candy floss, screamed from the top of the big wheel. She screwed the young guy who worked on the hook-a-duck. It was always the same.
Posted By Laura On 02.14.2012 @ 11:09 am
maze
It was clever really, he’d lure the pretty, buxom ones into his impossible maze. As night fell, their panic soared. He’d swoop in, bite their slender necks and hide them in the greenery.
Posted By Laura On 02.13.2012 @ 2:29 am
