obscenecupcake
Smooth, denting my finger as I run it down. Hard, yet you can feel how thin it is.
Honestly, the word is desk, and it seems a really boring thing to use as a prompt, so ima skip today's word.
not even a minute.
It was a bright day. Nothing out of the ordinary. The sun filtered through the window in a clear path, it's progress traceable. Everything was bright- the white cream of the floor, the sharp red of Maisy's teddy bear (propped up against the window framing), the sheer gauze of the curtains. The air had that energy in it that just connects to you, that energy that you can only find in a California Summer. Then I heard it. A rumble. The glass _ratted_ as if a great wind had hit it, even though the air sat still and placid with no mention of a breeze. This is the first thing I remember of that summer. Now it seems like a premonition, though at the time I didn't give it much significance. Our summer was bright, and then He came. He rattled the bright view we looked through, he changed everything. He changed everything for us, he changed everything for me.
You Harry put his arms around her, rubbing his hands up and down her back, feeling the change of texture from tank top to soft, soft skin. Some things in life couldn't be helped, consoled, or fixed. the situation with her father was one of these. Harry had always known that life was not like a disney cartoon, with the evil always vanquished and the absentee parents suddenly caring, the children unnaffected by their heretofor cold prescence. What he had not known was the feeling of utter helpnessness, of cold horror, that would come from being unable to help his friend.
She looked at the food in front of her. Peas, Two slices of turkey, and some mashed potatos. Determined, she picked up her fork and took a bite. This would work. She would diet. and this time, she would succeed
A gentle laugh, creamy white hand lifted, fingers curved caressingly over a wine stem. Blonde hair turned slightly to the right, and blue eyes slightly hooded. Yes, they were snared. She was beautiful, she was amazing, she had all their attention. the audience was dazzled, and all she had to do was the same stereotypical song and dance that gorgeous woman had been doing for lifetimes. The amount of skin showed and innocence displayed may have changed with the centuries, but the basics remained the same. Good skin, good hair, an air of idiocy, and champagne. The trap was set, they were hers.
There are aesthetics and there are mathematics. A good society has a bit of both. Sanooth was a good society. All their buildings were structured with both practicality and beauty built into every strong beam, every swooping bow, and every painted (word forgot). This was the laceplace that Mary started her j
Feelings are complicated thing. As a human, we are rarely feeling one thing at a time. Instead, the most prominant emotion is woven together with an undercurrent of another. That's why, on the rare instances that I feel only one emotion, I savor it. Hence, why even though I felt so HORRIBLE about the way Jon treated me, I couldn't help but savor the pain of it. The uncomplicated sadness he brought me.
The rain was dripping down and bouncing back with a force I hadn't seen before. Streets, plants, houses... everything was flooding. I knew it wouldn't get bad enough that we would have to leave, however I couldn't help but worry.
What draco saw first was the bright green of his cloak. A bright forest green, like his eyes. So many people made a big deal about his eye color, but it never seemed to become a tired subject. He gulped. Now was the time. Crossing through the crowds of people, his boots clacking against the cobblestones, Draco stopped in front of him. "Harry," he said, staring straight in his eyes, "we have to talk. It's yours."
Reginald stood stiffly, his arms rigid and his white buttons marching in a straight line right down to the paper he held in his hand. He lifted one corner of his mouth as he spoke, "they've changed the _policy_." Had he been a less stoic man, they would have said he sneered.
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writing since 2011 · 15 entries · 15 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means obscenecupcake showed up.
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the words obscenecupcake reaches for
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