maryannerose
Nothing keeps my interest long, it's all shiny and new in the beginning but sure enough it melts away, and like smoke under my fingernails, wisps itself out like a candle in a quiet shove of wind
There was a nervous air around the table as the various diplomats shifted their bottoms in their seats and their eyes at their fellow foreign table mates, all there to discuss the same problem. The Geneva Convention- this event was supposed to go down in history, however if any one person with an ordinary job were to stand in the room with those men at that moment, they would've felt anything but humbled; with one diplomat stealing the fancy ballpoint pen and another one thinking about an escort he'd left sullen and angry in a hurry.
There was a jade cap over the filmy net, and as the fish gasped and flopped about on the floor of the boat, I walked myself around and around the circumference of the entrapment, feeling enormous and strange
It was a necessity to chop the old oak tree down, the sheriff had told me. I remember a time when I would have begged for him to leave it alone, but when he told me this now, I only nodded and smiled, exchanged niceties and left, segmented and confused at my own wicked whimsy ways. I could only conclude that the oak tree was evil, and that's why I didn't want it to be saved.
There were pins sticking out of her head. Slowly, gingerly, she removed them, plucking them out as if she were plucking out hair. The tubes in her arms could be left for later. Same for the heavy weights attached to her earlobes, the microphones that could hear changes as slight as an elevated heartbeat; anything to indicate she had woken up from her forbidden slumber. The first thing to do, though, was remove the pins. So, that's what she set about doing.
Such a deafening silence, I'm surprised that my powers can even make a splash in the pond of the large ocean that is her ear; ripple towards her brain, making resonance with the sweet sound of her ear and her lips, vibrating and pretending as pretendings hastened their pace, whilst making it all beautiful in the end
The trunk was heavy and glossy, and the wood had that malleable quality where when Susanna stuck her nails ever so softly into the varnish, a little bit of the gunk came up and stuck itself right back into her. It smelled a little bitter, but she didn't mind that one bit. The trunk said, "Don't come near me, I'm a strange thing," but Susanna had always preferred the strange things anyway.
I was gently holding my broken toy, cradling it's head that was limply lying a few inches below it's shoulders, as if it had been knocked backwards by a strong gust of wind and simply didn't have the strength at that moment to resist it. The eyes stared lazily up at me and I looked at the seams, fiddling with my fretting fingers and flexing my weighted palm, trying to discern my next course of action for my poor, broken friend.
The films ratings were insane. One critic would give it 5 shiny gold stars out of 5, when another one would be berating it and declaring it as the worst film of all time. There was simply no in between, and as I watched the newspapers be delivered and as I saw the many pages dedicated to understanding or appreciate my film, I began to feel more and more unhappy that I had started in the first place.
The beauty pageant had the girls arranged in such a way that it reminded Charlie of a confectionary; the rainbows of their dresses and thick scent of their hairspray which wafted through the air and successfully submerged everybody in a slightly dazed and drugged, but happy, complexion- the various scents of "rain" and "vanilla" mixing in with the gentle, shimmering facial powder that seemed to settle over the girls like a soft snowfall, or ash, falling from the sky.
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