ofitzger
Without inspiration, there are no discoveries.
Things like that don't often go forgotten quite as easily as they are said. The simplicity of a mere word makes one wonder how something so miserly packs such a punch. That's the funny thing about the truth...it sticks around much like a shirt does to a fat boy's sweaty back, and just as unexpectedly as it came out, it dissipates into the vast and garbled expanses of our universe; remembered yet entirely forgotten.
The door swung open clumsily as I walked carefully into the seemingly empty room. Luck had nothing to do with it. A lock-pick and some patience were the only factors in my ability to gain entrance. Standing alone in a damp and badly lit brick-walled basement, I nearly lost myself in thought and forgot what I had came for.
I am just not the same anymore.
The stick protruded out of the mud like a sword deeply embedded into an enemy's corpse. Mud oozing sluggishly off it's sides, Charlie fought back a strong urge to vomit. If there had ever been a more offensive looking thing, he sure as hell hadn't seen it...the thing was a goddamn tripping hazard.
Standing in a fallow field surrounded by sunflowers and a deep purple sky, I am not a believer. I am alone.
I am the amazing thief of man's innate consciousness, robbing unsuspecting souls of their narcoleptic comfort.
We wallowed wistfully under the willow, wondrously waiting for the wind to weaken.
Ripping into the fresh meat savagely like a starved animal, she could barely get a word out between the massive amounts of food stuffed into her mouth. She could never eat anything when she traveled, transforming her from a well-mannered diner to a ravenous hyena.
It was impossible for him to do sometimes. To make such a honest internal confession to a group of people he had never even met before would be humiliating. No, he wouldn't-couldn't-tell them anything. Not yet anyway.
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