purpleyrain
We were driving in the car, the breeze flowing through my hair, all I remember is the cliffs, that were pointing west to a far off country, the colour of fire. I could just imagine myself on top, eyes closed, letting my skin absorb the wind and the dust coming from them.
The director looked at the scene, he had made up his mind and decided that he liked it, it was always a bit of a risk with these things. Lowry looked back at him nervously, the fiexed gaze always put him ill at ease, he took a breath and started to speak.
The old man sat on the tree trunk, the green of the trees and the smell of flowers surrounded them. "Now," he said smiling at the others, "I will tell you the tales of my youth."
As he fell to the ground he felt the gravel scraping the backs of his legs and the warm tears pouring down his cheeks and sticking to them. He heard the sounds of laughter and shouting above him as the others started shouting "weakling! Weakling! Weakling!"
We were running through the hedges, I could hear the sounds of rustling and laughing all around me. All of a I sudden I looked up and saw a face which, I started laughing, I realised it was just a lamb.
Simplicity to me is everything, I hate people who like to embellish. Those who embellish, to me are looking and trying to create something in their mind which will never exist. They take it too seriously, the most beautiful words, paintings and books are simple and direct, just like us,
We walked and we walked, I could hear the sea crashing against the waves, I heard his voice shouting to me, I ran over to see him and ran through to the cave where he was standing on a rock, I looked at him and he smiled, I closed my eyes and I could hear the echoing of the waved and the smell of sea salt and the feeling of our faces touching.
She ran towards the car, it was late and she knew that they would all glare as she walked in. She started up the ignition and the radio turned itself on, she tried to reverse out of the space when the car stalled. "Fuck!" she shouted.