Kenji sat gazing out the window at the darkness outside, oblivious to the chattering of the hostess by his side. He had asked the Mama San about his girlfriend, and was told that she had stopped showing up for work suddenly, the night after their last dinner date. He had got into enough trouble for even discussing the job with Miura while she was at his apartment, but had presumed she would not understand. Had she been listening to his conversation? Had she actually understood what they were discussing?
Was that why she had suddenly disappeared? He could not rule out a link. He had to find her and make sure she wasn’t a problem.
tonykeyesjapan
In the third row, slightly off to the right, he was
there again. Every performance, he was there,
watching her. He brought her roses the first night,
along with a pomegranate, which he assured her
was an old theater tradition, pomegranate for the
new leading lady. He was small, kind, and always
exceptionally polite. You could tell that his feet
hadn’t once strayed from the proper path. This is
what freighted Audrey the most, his do-gooding.
Audrey was terrified by all sorts of do-gooders,
she did not trust them. She much preferred selfish
people, they were far more direct, and didn’t have
to be pressed for honesty. In fact, the quality Audrey admired most in any person, was the acceptance of one’s own irrepressible rascality. Audrey’s parents were both complete rascals, and she loved them intensely. She truly feared anyone who did not see the wicked gleam in their own eye. This boy with the roses and the pomegranate had no wicked gleam. His eyes were like holes in the world.
Gazing, that’s funny, that’s what I was just doing, gazing at the screen. I have convinced myself “gazing” was the word I was using in my head to narrate my actions, but now I’m unsure of how quickly my mind and memory can play tricks. Gazing. Gazelle. I don’t know any words that really share a root with “gaze”…
e
She gazed out the window and across the road, where a young girl was playing with her dog. It brought back memories of her own childhood, one that she had spent with her deceased brother.
Raven
they gazed up at the sky, feeling as if they were stuck within a strangely romantic scene from a random movie. somehow it didn’t come off as purely sweet – they could feel grass pushing into the back of their necks and there seemed to be a large amount of stars missing. nevertheless, they were glad to be together.
Gazing at the window
Through the window
At the tree
At the leaves
blowing in the wind
red
and
orange,
waiting
to
fall.
Charlie
Moongazing, stargazing.. stargazy pie. Blackbirds, four and twenty of them baked within a crust of pastry
Gazing out at hungry mouths around the table. Each of their own opened in a loud cry of self defeat.
Mary Barr
Ariel could’t stop her self from gazing up at the stars as she lay there beside Dean. She wasn’t even sure why she’d allowed him to drag her out to the empty field, nor why she’d gone along with him when he said they were going to stargaze. The last time she’d done this had been before her mother died, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it again by herself.
Kenna
Geizkragen, alter Geizkragen!, rief er dem Mann hinterher. 50 Cent für eine saubere Windschutzscheibe, das war doch eine Frechheit, dachte Fred, der eigentlich Friedrich hieß, aber nicht so genannt werden wollte. Wer wollte schon wie ein alter Militärfutzi aus dem Dritten Reich heißen? Eben. Niemand. Dabei war das der Name seines Opas.
I often find myself spending many hours of my too-short life looking out of the windows of airplanes. One of my principal fantasies is to imagine that there is another plane somewhere, flying at the same elevation, on a parallel line to my own. And that there is a person looking out of their window, who happens to be gazing towards me as I gaze towards them. And I wonder if this people has this same fantasy.
John Doe
I was gazing at a butterfly as it meandered across the open meadow, it’s wings brushing delicately the top of the wildflowers. It would ordinarily have been a beautiful sight was it not for the darkness that lurked in the background.
Tracy Paterson
The sunset was red today – more red than usual – and red wasn’t a happy color for her. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad omen. After all, these types of things usually were.
I was gazing into the bottom of the pool hoping to catch a glimpse of something. What? I’m not so sure but it was supposed to wake me up, but I was still sleeping.
Kenji sat gazing out the window at the darkness outside, oblivious to the chattering of the hostess by his side. He had asked the Mama San about his girlfriend, and was told that she had stopped showing up for work suddenly, the night after their last dinner date. He had got into enough trouble for even discussing the job with Miura while she was at his apartment, but had presumed she would not understand. Had she been listening to his conversation? Had she actually understood what they were discussing?
Was that why she had suddenly disappeared? He could not rule out a link. He had to find her and make sure she wasn’t a problem.
In the third row, slightly off to the right, he was
there again. Every performance, he was there,
watching her. He brought her roses the first night,
along with a pomegranate, which he assured her
was an old theater tradition, pomegranate for the
new leading lady. He was small, kind, and always
exceptionally polite. You could tell that his feet
hadn’t once strayed from the proper path. This is
what freighted Audrey the most, his do-gooding.
Audrey was terrified by all sorts of do-gooders,
she did not trust them. She much preferred selfish
people, they were far more direct, and didn’t have
to be pressed for honesty. In fact, the quality Audrey admired most in any person, was the acceptance of one’s own irrepressible rascality. Audrey’s parents were both complete rascals, and she loved them intensely. She truly feared anyone who did not see the wicked gleam in their own eye. This boy with the roses and the pomegranate had no wicked gleam. His eyes were like holes in the world.
In the third row, slightly off to the right, he was
there again. Every performance, he was there,
watching her. He brought her roses the first night,
along with a pomegranate, which he assured her
was an old theater tradition, pomegranate for the
new leading lady. He was small, kind, and always
exceptionally polite. You could tell that his feet
hadn’t once strayed from the proper path. This is
what freighted Audrey the most, his do-gooding.
Audrey was terrified by all sorts of do-gooders,
she did not trust them. She much preferred selfish
people, they were far more direct, and didn’t have
to be pressed for honesty. The quality Audrey
admired most in any person, was the acceptance
of one’s own irrepressible rascality. Audreys
parents were both complete rascals, and she
loved them intensely. She truly feared anyone
who did not see a wicked gleam in their own eye.
Gazing, that’s funny, that’s what I was just doing, gazing at the screen. I have convinced myself “gazing” was the word I was using in my head to narrate my actions, but now I’m unsure of how quickly my mind and memory can play tricks. Gazing. Gazelle. I don’t know any words that really share a root with “gaze”…
She gazed out the window and across the road, where a young girl was playing with her dog. It brought back memories of her own childhood, one that she had spent with her deceased brother.
they gazed up at the sky, feeling as if they were stuck within a strangely romantic scene from a random movie. somehow it didn’t come off as purely sweet – they could feel grass pushing into the back of their necks and there seemed to be a large amount of stars missing. nevertheless, they were glad to be together.
Gazing at the window
Through the window
At the tree
At the leaves
blowing in the wind
red
and
orange,
waiting
to
fall.
Moongazing, stargazing.. stargazy pie. Blackbirds, four and twenty of them baked within a crust of pastry
Gazing out at hungry mouths around the table. Each of their own opened in a loud cry of self defeat.
Ariel could’t stop her self from gazing up at the stars as she lay there beside Dean. She wasn’t even sure why she’d allowed him to drag her out to the empty field, nor why she’d gone along with him when he said they were going to stargaze. The last time she’d done this had been before her mother died, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it again by herself.
Geizkragen, alter Geizkragen!, rief er dem Mann hinterher. 50 Cent für eine saubere Windschutzscheibe, das war doch eine Frechheit, dachte Fred, der eigentlich Friedrich hieß, aber nicht so genannt werden wollte. Wer wollte schon wie ein alter Militärfutzi aus dem Dritten Reich heißen? Eben. Niemand. Dabei war das der Name seines Opas.
He was gazing off into the horizon, remembering of better times in his life. When suddenly he was jolted out of the memories by a loud bang.
I often find myself spending many hours of my too-short life looking out of the windows of airplanes. One of my principal fantasies is to imagine that there is another plane somewhere, flying at the same elevation, on a parallel line to my own. And that there is a person looking out of their window, who happens to be gazing towards me as I gaze towards them. And I wonder if this people has this same fantasy.
I was gazing at a butterfly as it meandered across the open meadow, it’s wings brushing delicately the top of the wildflowers. It would ordinarily have been a beautiful sight was it not for the darkness that lurked in the background.
The sunset was red today – more red than usual – and red wasn’t a happy color for her. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad omen. After all, these types of things usually were.
I was gazing into the bottom of the pool hoping to catch a glimpse of something. What? I’m not so sure but it was supposed to wake me up, but I was still sleeping.
She is gazing into something she doesn’t quite know. It scares her and excites her indescribably. Oh right it’s a corpse. She has a corpse fetish.
She was gazing into something she doesn’t quite know. It scares her and excites her indescribably. Oh right it’s a corpse. She has a corpse fetish.