A cabinet is a piece of furniture that suits as a storage space. It can hide your innermost secrets and be a place to store conventional, everyday items. It protects.
The cabinet was made of stained wood, dark and homey and somehow smooth to the look, not just to the touch. It gleamed elegantly in the sunlight streaming through the windows, dust motes dancing through the air before it, almost as if they were entertaining the antique cabinet.
The cabinet is filled with many things. Posters, old cinema tickets, that penny you found on that train that time. But the one thing that isnt in my cupboard, YOU. Its a small cupboard, I know that, but I think it’ll be big enough. I think. We could try maybe? Please squeeze into my cupboard. I need to keep you where I know you will be safe. Please.
She emptied the cabinets carefully, stowing the usable contents in a plastic container. There was blood everywhere, bits of sinew and brains. She sighed, wondering again why on earth she ever took the job. “I suppose even crime scenes need a clean up crew,” she thought to herself.
i opened the cabinet. looking for something to cover myself, but all I could find was a skeleton. It looked at me with a dreadful look so I took a step in there closed the door behind me.
Everything was put together. The movers helped her put it right in the center of the wall. Becca opened the box and pulled out the antique plate, gold edges with a intricate pink rose in the center. It had been her great-grandmother’s. It was the perfect centerpiece for her new china cabinet, in her own dining room, in her own home.
I’m pretty sure you hate me or at the very least think that I’m weird.
But my heart is already a captive of your laugh and my eyes are set to you from the very beginning.
So, I’ll try to set aside this small things called feelings and put it in the furthest cabinet and throw away the key.
There was a girl sitting in the cabinet. The cabinet wasnt very big, she had barely squeezed in. She loved to be in a place where she didnt fit in, where she felt different. It made a nice change. For hours she sat there, dreading leaving the safety of her small paradise.
There was something mysterious about this cabinet, something that I just couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t the way it looked, that was certain. This cabinet was a simple white block of wood, like one you’d find in any kitchen. No, it wasn’t the way it looked, it was something else. There was something that just drew me in, made me wonder what was inside of the cabinet. Too bad it was locked.
There in the corner is a small cabinet. From the outside it looks as any other cabinet would, but the inside, the inside is different. Inside there are magical things. Things that would blow your socks right off (hypothetically of course). There are things that sparkle, things that glow, things that make noise, and things that do nothing at all. But the most magical of all, is one of those things that are impossible to describe. You will never know what it is.
square usually normally made of wood holds various items can come in different colours can have glass and be different sizes and shapes for easy placing as in corners usually have shelves and doors for displaying things like trophies or plates.
The cabinet has a soft red velvet lining with a platinum in-crested nob in it. When I opened the cabinet, the soft creaking noise reminded me of a gerbil playing in the sand. When opened, I can clearly see the peanut butter behind the door.
in my pants
in my room
it has clothes
it has pants…
what’s a cabinet?
it has books?
I have no idea what Im writing..
it starts with a C
then an a
then b
i
n
e
and ends with a t
the cabinet next to my father was always stocked with food that fed your soul and sprouted in your stomach. lately nothing had been re-added to his sacred pantry, not even his rainy day soup had a dent in it. he looked at me through thick air and said “son…im dieing”
I closed it all up in a cabinet. The anger, the fear, the pain. I locked it with a promise to never let that happen to me again and I hid it in the farthest corner of my heart. There it sits, gathering dust.
Inside is something I’ve wanted for so long that I can barely ever remember a time that I haven’t stood here, waiting, wanting, fearing. But today’s the day. I’m opening and I’m taking and I’m going to run like hell when she comes through the house screaming about who walked in and opened the cabinet and took her bottle of ink.
I searched fruitlessly for my lost goods. Those delicious, raspberry treats were stuffed in one of these cabinets. Deep in the recesses of their dark, dank interior lie a treat capable of lifting any man’s hearts. Soft chewy outside, creamy fruity inside. Blasted with radioactivity to perfection. I need me some poptarts.
i hate those. they can never hold all the shit i want it to. i have alot of shit i need to put in those things and the doors always just get pushed open. THE SHELF STRUCTURE SHOULD BE PLANNED BETTER! i cant stess that enough. they should be tilted backwards so that nothing falls forward.
we have many cabinets in my house.
wouldn’t that be awesome to crawl into a cabinet and then have it turn into your house. that’d be so cool. it’d be your own space. nobody would know about it. :)
She slowly approached, fearing an irrational feeling that she obtained, an empty guess of what may have been inside. Her twitching fingers wrapped around the handle and like a bandaid she ripped it open, the noise of wood clashing upon the wall made her even more scared, but it wasn’t until she looked inside did she tremble, the fears lingering inside of her bursting out into reality. And suddenly flying from out of the cabinet was a gruesome, slimy, blood covered……..
one word can describe how you feel in that very moment. you may be feeling love and love is ONLY ONE WORD. maybe CRAZY and crazy its also ONLY ONE WORD!! YOU CAN DESCRIBE YOURSELF OR SOMETHING IN ONLY ONE WORD!!
We have some lovely cherry cabinets in our kitchen.
They remind of the time when I was about 3 or 4 when my dad got a job as a cabinet maker. He didn’t do too well. He finally got another job in journalism, which he is much better at.
She stirred the large pot of soup a few more times before reaching into her spice cabinet… “It needs just a little more flavor,” she thought… She shuffled some bottles around til she found what she was looking for, an unlabeled, amber colored jar…
I once had a cabinet of curiosities. It contained all the weird and wonderful aspects of the world. Skulls and deformed animals with a few medical instruments just to keep my interest. I would sell tickets to curious peasants who were looking to be entertained by the abnormal.
It was a piece of shit, but it would work. Well, as well as any piece of furniture could work as a haven for such incriminating evidence. With a sigh of desperation, he shoved the bag into the uppermost drawer with paranoid haste and turned to face the gauntlet of accusations that would be waiting for him. Perpetually, constantly, unnervingly waiting.
A rather simple-but-useful item that can be used to store and display a multitude of handy, fascinating, nostalgic or random objects; from your first edition Beatrix Potter to those old Christmas jumpers hand-knitted by your nan.
Cabinet, obtains things I need, some important, some of no meaning. Food? Tampons? Time of month, I guess. Oh, found some chapstick. This weather is ruining me. No toothpaste? Such a lie, tube in the back. My life is complete. This cabinet has all I need. Cabinet. Has a door, you can’t see what’s inside unless you open. No need to fear, just do it. Could be snacks, could be vibrators. Could be a bomb, could be the answer to a problem you deal with everyday. Could be a boyfriend. Single? I’m not. Could be condoms. Don’t know, just open the cabinet. Do it!
The large cabinets at his new pre-furnished apartment yawned up at him; a fake tree hung its straggly cloth leaves in despair. The cabinets didn’t even have a scrap of tissue or bent paper clip in them, although one of them had an empty cicada shell (no cicada). He had to find some way to fill those cabinets, because he knew in the pauses in his work where he needed ideas, he would absentmindedly open and close them, and if they were empty little bits of pain would jab at him. At his former apartment most of the stuff in the cabinets belonged to his girlfriend.
He wasn’t the kind of person who filled cabinets very easily, though, he thought as he walked through the mall, feeling like an alien among people who cared about purses. Then he saw the shop: Darren’s Dioramas, with a solar system of moving planets hanging from the ceiling. The shop was filled with display cases piled up like fish tanks in a pet store, of a medieval castle, of the time of the dinosaurs, of the desert in bloom, with origami saguaros. They were perfect, he could plop one in each cabinet. Never mind that each one cost a hundred dollars, that they couldn’t move with him. He’d leave them as a surprise for the next tenant, when his lease expired.
My liquor cabinet is not actually a liquor cabinet. It is a regular kitchen cabinet where I store my liquor. I’ve always wanted a real liquor cabinet, maybe made of mahogany or red oak. Or pine! That would certainly bring out the Colorado Rocky Mountain soul in me.
The cabinet doors were open, empty inside. And every time you’d slam one door, the other would pop out, hop up, toward you, like diced onion in hot oil. Their hinges inside, unimaginable, incomprehensible, to those who weren’t cabinet makers. If they even existed any more. And when you reopened the doors, hoping for some magical reappearance of something, anything, the emptiness inside upset not only the dust that had careened inward earlier, previously settled.
Kitchen cabinets. I have the strangest ones!. The uppers have just one really tall door about four feet high-all the way to the ceiling.. You open them up to four shelves.
once there was a lady who was making breakfast and she was gathering all the ingredients and reached her hand out into the cabinet. Something grabbed her hand and she fell back and grew startled.
He could believe in it. That was the point. He could stand behind something so simple. Plain, light wood, no handle. She hated him for it. “It will be for the rest of our lives!” She demanded he thought harder. Gave it more thought than settling on the first display in the warehouse.
The cabinet was dusty, and stood in a corner of the derelict room, sad and neglected. He stepped over to it, debris crunching under his feet. The treasure had to be hidden somewhere around here… The cabinet surely concealed it.
A cabinet is a piece of furniture that suits as a storage space. It can hide your innermost secrets and be a place to store conventional, everyday items. It protects.
The cabinet was made of stained wood, dark and homey and somehow smooth to the look, not just to the touch. It gleamed elegantly in the sunlight streaming through the windows, dust motes dancing through the air before it, almost as if they were entertaining the antique cabinet.
nooooooooo! i write and do P.R. for a small sustainable interior design firm. there’s no way i want to talk about a piece of furniture right now.
:o
The cabinet is filled with many things. Posters, old cinema tickets, that penny you found on that train that time. But the one thing that isnt in my cupboard, YOU. Its a small cupboard, I know that, but I think it’ll be big enough. I think. We could try maybe? Please squeeze into my cupboard. I need to keep you where I know you will be safe. Please.
big crazy weirt brow black bottons silver gold rabbit onion pizza closeth
She emptied the cabinets carefully, stowing the usable contents in a plastic container. There was blood everywhere, bits of sinew and brains. She sighed, wondering again why on earth she ever took the job. “I suppose even crime scenes need a clean up crew,” she thought to herself.
i opened the cabinet. looking for something to cover myself, but all I could find was a skeleton. It looked at me with a dreadful look so I took a step in there closed the door behind me.
Everything was put together. The movers helped her put it right in the center of the wall. Becca opened the box and pulled out the antique plate, gold edges with a intricate pink rose in the center. It had been her great-grandmother’s. It was the perfect centerpiece for her new china cabinet, in her own dining room, in her own home.
I’m pretty sure you hate me or at the very least think that I’m weird.
But my heart is already a captive of your laugh and my eyes are set to you from the very beginning.
So, I’ll try to set aside this small things called feelings and put it in the furthest cabinet and throw away the key.
There was a girl sitting in the cabinet. The cabinet wasnt very big, she had barely squeezed in. She loved to be in a place where she didnt fit in, where she felt different. It made a nice change. For hours she sat there, dreading leaving the safety of her small paradise.
There was something mysterious about this cabinet, something that I just couldn’t put my finger on. It wasn’t the way it looked, that was certain. This cabinet was a simple white block of wood, like one you’d find in any kitchen. No, it wasn’t the way it looked, it was something else. There was something that just drew me in, made me wonder what was inside of the cabinet. Too bad it was locked.
There in the corner is a small cabinet. From the outside it looks as any other cabinet would, but the inside, the inside is different. Inside there are magical things. Things that would blow your socks right off (hypothetically of course). There are things that sparkle, things that glow, things that make noise, and things that do nothing at all. But the most magical of all, is one of those things that are impossible to describe. You will never know what it is.
square usually normally made of wood holds various items can come in different colours can have glass and be different sizes and shapes for easy placing as in corners usually have shelves and doors for displaying things like trophies or plates.
The cabinet has a soft red velvet lining with a platinum in-crested nob in it. When I opened the cabinet, the soft creaking noise reminded me of a gerbil playing in the sand. When opened, I can clearly see the peanut butter behind the door.
Cabinets carry anything, from books to plates, bowls and other cutlery, knicknacks, odds and ends.
in my pants
in my room
it has clothes
it has pants…
what’s a cabinet?
it has books?
I have no idea what Im writing..
it starts with a C
then an a
then b
i
n
e
and ends with a t
the cabinet next to my father was always stocked with food that fed your soul and sprouted in your stomach. lately nothing had been re-added to his sacred pantry, not even his rainy day soup had a dent in it. he looked at me through thick air and said “son…im dieing”
I closed it all up in a cabinet. The anger, the fear, the pain. I locked it with a promise to never let that happen to me again and I hid it in the farthest corner of my heart. There it sits, gathering dust.
Inside is something I’ve wanted for so long that I can barely ever remember a time that I haven’t stood here, waiting, wanting, fearing. But today’s the day. I’m opening and I’m taking and I’m going to run like hell when she comes through the house screaming about who walked in and opened the cabinet and took her bottle of ink.
I searched fruitlessly for my lost goods. Those delicious, raspberry treats were stuffed in one of these cabinets. Deep in the recesses of their dark, dank interior lie a treat capable of lifting any man’s hearts. Soft chewy outside, creamy fruity inside. Blasted with radioactivity to perfection. I need me some poptarts.
i hate those. they can never hold all the shit i want it to. i have alot of shit i need to put in those things and the doors always just get pushed open. THE SHELF STRUCTURE SHOULD BE PLANNED BETTER! i cant stess that enough. they should be tilted backwards so that nothing falls forward.
we have many cabinets in my house.
wouldn’t that be awesome to crawl into a cabinet and then have it turn into your house. that’d be so cool. it’d be your own space. nobody would know about it. :)
A long time ago, cabinets were the bane of my existence. They held all the secrets. And the cookies too.
She slowly approached, fearing an irrational feeling that she obtained, an empty guess of what may have been inside. Her twitching fingers wrapped around the handle and like a bandaid she ripped it open, the noise of wood clashing upon the wall made her even more scared, but it wasn’t until she looked inside did she tremble, the fears lingering inside of her bursting out into reality. And suddenly flying from out of the cabinet was a gruesome, slimy, blood covered……..
one word can describe how you feel in that very moment. you may be feeling love and love is ONLY ONE WORD. maybe CRAZY and crazy its also ONLY ONE WORD!! YOU CAN DESCRIBE YOURSELF OR SOMETHING IN ONLY ONE WORD!!
We have some lovely cherry cabinets in our kitchen.
They remind of the time when I was about 3 or 4 when my dad got a job as a cabinet maker. He didn’t do too well. He finally got another job in journalism, which he is much better at.
“Go to the cabinet.”
I did. I found two bottles of brandy, one jug of whiskey, and three tubs of what looked like dried up meds. I wasn’t quite sure why they were in tubs.
“Bring the blue pills over.”
I did. He pulled off the lid and pulled out four pills. He downed all of them without water.
“Now,” he said, “turn away.”
She stirred the large pot of soup a few more times before reaching into her spice cabinet… “It needs just a little more flavor,” she thought… She shuffled some bottles around til she found what she was looking for, an unlabeled, amber colored jar…
I once had a cabinet of curiosities. It contained all the weird and wonderful aspects of the world. Skulls and deformed animals with a few medical instruments just to keep my interest. I would sell tickets to curious peasants who were looking to be entertained by the abnormal.
It was a piece of shit, but it would work. Well, as well as any piece of furniture could work as a haven for such incriminating evidence. With a sigh of desperation, he shoved the bag into the uppermost drawer with paranoid haste and turned to face the gauntlet of accusations that would be waiting for him. Perpetually, constantly, unnervingly waiting.
A rather simple-but-useful item that can be used to store and display a multitude of handy, fascinating, nostalgic or random objects; from your first edition Beatrix Potter to those old Christmas jumpers hand-knitted by your nan.
Cabinet, obtains things I need, some important, some of no meaning. Food? Tampons? Time of month, I guess. Oh, found some chapstick. This weather is ruining me. No toothpaste? Such a lie, tube in the back. My life is complete. This cabinet has all I need. Cabinet. Has a door, you can’t see what’s inside unless you open. No need to fear, just do it. Could be snacks, could be vibrators. Could be a bomb, could be the answer to a problem you deal with everyday. Could be a boyfriend. Single? I’m not. Could be condoms. Don’t know, just open the cabinet. Do it!
The large cabinets at his new pre-furnished apartment yawned up at him; a fake tree hung its straggly cloth leaves in despair. The cabinets didn’t even have a scrap of tissue or bent paper clip in them, although one of them had an empty cicada shell (no cicada). He had to find some way to fill those cabinets, because he knew in the pauses in his work where he needed ideas, he would absentmindedly open and close them, and if they were empty little bits of pain would jab at him. At his former apartment most of the stuff in the cabinets belonged to his girlfriend.
He wasn’t the kind of person who filled cabinets very easily, though, he thought as he walked through the mall, feeling like an alien among people who cared about purses. Then he saw the shop: Darren’s Dioramas, with a solar system of moving planets hanging from the ceiling. The shop was filled with display cases piled up like fish tanks in a pet store, of a medieval castle, of the time of the dinosaurs, of the desert in bloom, with origami saguaros. They were perfect, he could plop one in each cabinet. Never mind that each one cost a hundred dollars, that they couldn’t move with him. He’d leave them as a surprise for the next tenant, when his lease expired.
My liquor cabinet is not actually a liquor cabinet. It is a regular kitchen cabinet where I store my liquor. I’ve always wanted a real liquor cabinet, maybe made of mahogany or red oak. Or pine! That would certainly bring out the Colorado Rocky Mountain soul in me.
The cabinet doors were open, empty inside. And every time you’d slam one door, the other would pop out, hop up, toward you, like diced onion in hot oil. Their hinges inside, unimaginable, incomprehensible, to those who weren’t cabinet makers. If they even existed any more. And when you reopened the doors, hoping for some magical reappearance of something, anything, the emptiness inside upset not only the dust that had careened inward earlier, previously settled.
Kitchen cabinets. I have the strangest ones!. The uppers have just one really tall door about four feet high-all the way to the ceiling.. You open them up to four shelves.
the cabinet is filled with memories of you,
pictures, old china collectibles,
and your ashes
you should be next to me,
not in a cabinet filled with memories
once there was a lady who was making breakfast and she was gathering all the ingredients and reached her hand out into the cabinet. Something grabbed her hand and she fell back and grew startled.
He could believe in it. That was the point. He could stand behind something so simple. Plain, light wood, no handle. She hated him for it. “It will be for the rest of our lives!” She demanded he thought harder. Gave it more thought than settling on the first display in the warehouse.
The cabinet was dusty, and stood in a corner of the derelict room, sad and neglected. He stepped over to it, debris crunching under his feet. The treasure had to be hidden somewhere around here… The cabinet surely concealed it.