gobbledegoookk
Derelict and tragic, haphazard pilings of iron and rust and flaking paint form buildings and roads in their own sad city of bygones. Is there hope for these forgotten relics? For restoration and reinvention? Or is the fading all that remains?
Two warring families. It's the same old story, isn't it? Throw in some illicit romance, a long forgotten origin and the stubborness of the human condition and ta da! Human nature wins out, every time. The same old story, told again and again, in a thousand different ways. The story of our lives. The story of their lives. The story of our world.
And the world tilted with his words. Everything that was, everything she'd ever known, shifted. As if each syllable that came from his mouth piled ontop of the one before it, weighting down this see-saw she'd never noticed before, this precarious balancing act that had become her life, until she found herself thrust into the air, holding on by the tips of her fingers as the earth tilted away from her grasp.