debbiegirl
White picket fences. Tree in front with a tire swing. Dog lazily laying on the porch. Dad coming home with flowers for mom. Mom with an apron, slightly covered in flour. The American dream.
Don't think I'm totally interested in this scenario.
The crinkle of the bag as it opens with a pop. A waft of salt and oil perfumes the air for a split second as you gaze down expectantly only to realize the the bag is half empty. Disappointment mingles with resignation has you reach a hand into the bag. Knuckles are grazed with oily saltiness and you bring the item in question to your mouth.
Fuck it. The chips are still good and crisp.
Glitter. Champagne. Fire. Sparks. Love. Kisses. Friendship. Beauty. Life. Happiness. So many beautiful sparks in life.
The hills centered about a grand house, filled with secret histories, present scandals, and the unknown future. The grass was an vivid green and the flowers bloomed as if it were paradise. A wild forest surrounded the estate, which was filled with pleasing animals, that was no more dangerous then a fox. But the family. Oh the family. Generations of mystery filled the halls of the manor. Curiosity was written in the books that were taught schools and no student, then and now, has ever solved the riddle that was surrounding that extraordinary family and the secrets that were kept within the walls of that house.
The bridge collapse as cars drove over the river as fishes swim across the ocean. Final Fantasy 5 on TV and that is what came to mind. Spoiler alert: everybody dies.
The desert has reached its hottest peak during midday. Thirst is quenching the throat as a miracle came to view. A prickly miracle.
Walking and walking and walking. Towards a mirage that seems to be getting closer and closer. The heat bearing down on his sunburnt neck as he stumbles towards an escape that will never come.
Cakes and scones. Teas with sugar and milk. Napkins folded gently on the laps of women dressed in lace.
Amazing manga artists and storytellers. They all have such different styles yet Clamp has such a distinct way of telling their stories that you know it's them.
My favorite season is Winter. The holiday cheer. The classic feel-good movies. Drinking hot chocolate and snuggled up warmly by the fireplace. It's the best time of the year to me.
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