evanka
Crisp. Like a cookie. Like a potato chip. Crispses. She stepped on the crisp leaves purposefully as walked down the street in the late afternoon. She intended to circle the block once and return home. What is the point of walking if it is never to go anywhere...
to say that i had a dozen of owl cookies is an understatement. I actually quite a bit more. To say that quite a bit more than a dozen owl cookies is ridiculous is ridiculous. You can never have enough owl cookies. To be sure, this is not the most insightful of my posts, but it is perhaps one of the best worded. But even I know, it is worded poorly.
Did I deserve this? This life that has been given? well, im not doing a very good job of taking care of it now.
Did she deserve this fate of an ugly duckling grown up into an ugly duck? I don't understand how coming here was supposed to help me write this paper. I type like I play. Smooth. Something. Tired. So tired. I need to fix my habits again......
Combination lock. Combo. Combination of black and white, red and yellow. We make a perfect combination, That perfect combination of all that is meant to be combined. Awesomeness combined into a combo. C-C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER! We make a perfect combo of old young everything
Iron steel. Iron wit. Iron. Ironing. Iron fortitude strength. I want her to call me. She didn't email after the concert and we all parted ways into that atrocious storm. I don't think anything happened, she is busy.
Hover. She hovered between thoughts and work. Trying to find a story that involved spoken words, not just feelings, emotions, sights, touch and sound... well... sound, But a particular sound. The sound that was formed between the teeth and on the tongue and the back of the throat of human beings. A unique sound that had a thousand different meanings. Even just one, could have a thousand different meanings...
Step. First one step and the other. Step up to the podium. Take that first step on the stairs. Made of wood. Untreated save by the years of stepping and the carpet that once been stapled to them. They led up to the bedrooms where I spent my childhood, painted yellow and purple. We'd always make plans to escape that room and go out to the world, and here we are.
Band! Marching band! I'm so excited for band camp, I am the epitome of a band geek and one day I do so dearly to hope to conduct some world famous orchestra. But, I never know if my heart is always in it. I feel like I'm doing things for the wrong reason most of some of the time, even if that reason doesn't hurt anyone... I need to write. Now.
Lightning struck through the heavy sky and clouds. Turning their dark blue and gray silhouettes suddenly blushing pink. Revealing their undersides and slicing through the sky. Joining the heavens to the earth in one hot, bright, sudden rush. And the boom of the air recoiling soon after.
There was a pair of antlers attached to the top of the serpent's head. He rolled he jeweled eyes past the ceiling and bared a set of double fangs. Writhing; his enamel blue scales clicked like the sound the earthenware plate made as it crashed to the tiled floor when he first showed his head which was now caught up by his elk like antlers in the strong fists of her son.
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writing since 2010 · 28 entries · 27 days shown up
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