freedomforall
From her viewpoint, the plan was simple. Get in. Steal the necklace. Get out. That's it. No fancy footwork, no background espionage music. Just turn off the alarms, sneak in, and take the thing. From her viewpoint, there was nothing difficult about this job whatsoever.
Her eyes welled up with tears, even as he gave her one last kiss. It was a sweet kiss, filled with love as pure as fresh fallen snow. He pulled away with a sad smile, and her heart clenched at his expression. He was just as sorry to leave her as she was sorry to see him go. But they would see each other again. Even if it wasn't within the next month, or year. Their hearts would beat as one, no matter the distance. And...someday, the lovers would meet again.
He smiled. He SMILED! And not just to himself--he smiled AT ME. I thought I'd go into cardiac arrest at the dazzle emanating off of him! Be still, my beating heart!..
Thomas S. Monson is a true Prophet in our day and age. He is the Prophet of the LDS church, which stands for: "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints". I, Leah so testify of this. :)
Personality. Wow. Where to begin? Well, every personality is different, no matter what. Sure, there are some similarities, but in reality we're all our unique selves. We should embrace our individuality; highlight the good points, and accept any bad points, and strive to fix the negative things. But we also need to realize that a person's traits are what makes them, THEM. We love people, not for just their good parts, but also for their quirks. I hope that made sense. :) Love people for who they are, not who you want them to be.
Flipping. Spinning. Like grace personified, she danced in the air. Crystalline water droplets from previous dives glittered as they flew from her body; she was moving too fast for them to be able to hold on. So instead they flew into the air, and she dove down. Her lithe body cut through the air like an experienced swordsman's blade. Down she went, slipping into the water. A moment later she resurfaced at the other end of the curelean blue pool.
The dealer cast his steady gaze around at the card players. Two women, and two men sat at the circular table. One woman wore expensive clothing, a feathered pale pink boa draped elegantly across her narrow shoulders. Her honey brown hair was chin length and immaculate, as was the rest of her appearance. But for all this perfection, she seemed to be inwardly nervous. For with one hand she held her cards up in a unwavering grip, while the other hand was mindlessly stroking the end of the boa, pulling feathers from it without really realizing it.
The dealer grimaced lightly in pity.
The casino's janitors weren't going to be happy. He cast his eyes round to the man next to her. He was rather heavy, the buttons of his jacket beginning to strain around his pot belly. He was sweating profusely, and kept dabbing at his balding head and neck with a worn handkerchief.
His eyes traveled next to the other man across from him at the table. He was more eccentric with his short hair swooped up in the front looking, if anything, more cartoonish than stylish. A short cropped beard graced his face, and his striped suit was a garish color of purple. He seemed completely at ease, and leaned back in his chair, trying to keep a smug grin from spreading across his thin lips.
A little sniffle brought his attention to the last player at the table. A heavier woman sat dapping at her little red nose with a wadded up tissue, a small box provided her with new ones and her unfortunate coat pocket for disposal. Her hair was rolled up into an elegant french twist, and her outrageously sequined blue dress sparkled in the dim light every time she moved to wipe her dripping nose.
He felt even worse gazing upon her.
The coat was a Ralph Lauren.
The room was silent all except for the breathing and occasional shifting from one foot to the other from the crowd. Pushing her boa up over her shoulder, the first player laid down her cards and pursed her lips. Next played the balding gentleman. With slightly more confidence, he placed his cards on the table. Leaning back, he loosened the collar of his silk shirt. The man in the purple suit leaned forward so all of the legs of his chair were touching the ground, and placed his cards on the table, by far the most confident of the players so far. Clearly comfortable with this position, he leaned back again and crossed his arms in triumph.
Last played the sick woman. She put them down without so much as a flicker of emotion, and dabbed at her nose. Gasps echoed through the crowd, and when the purple man saw her hand, he was nearly sent over backwards in surprise. He had just enough luck, however, that his chair fell forward instead of back, and he landed with a stunned 'thud'; his face looking almost as purple as his coat. The next mans eyes got very wide, blinked, and then he laughed once, loudly, and leaned back, clapping a hand to his eyes and grinning stupidly. The first woman--who had been again stroking the feather boa--stilled her hand and stared in open amazement.
Bless their fictional hearts..
He was deranged. There really was no other way to say it. Well, maybe crazy. But deranged still felt the most appropriate for the situation.
The terrain after the heavy rainfall was quite changed. The young woman peered out from her kitchen window, holding her cup of tea as she studied the wild forest beyond her own tame garden. The steam from her hot mug warmed her face and she closed her eyes with a sigh. It was cold again. She was grateful for the rain, of course, but it could make things very dull in a quiet house. Unless you had someone to spend the time with, it was very lonely. Currently her only companion was the room. She would sometimes talk quietly to no one; just thinking aloud, really.
He wasn't handsome in the "usual" sense. He cad a cute button nose and sparkling eyes, and a crooked smile that you couldn't help but to smile back at. He was my best friend at the time, and I always thought that if there was someone I wanted to marry, it would be him. No, he wasn't handsome in the "usual" sense. But he was handsome on the inside; and that's what mattered.
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writing since 2010 · 32 entries · 27 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Leah showed up.
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27days written
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the words Leah reaches for
eyesfacelightsmiledtablehandwordroombrownhairnoseboacardspurpleleanedgreat