Lofty-feathered birds fly above me, soaring. There was a time where I would have given anything to simply follow them south purely because it was south from where I was. I want to escape sometimes, fly east to Nebraska. To my love.
Why is this the word that starts off every time? This makes me think of New York, which makes me anxious, sad, and nervous. And then there’s the happy note to it; the one that whispers softly in my ear that it can happen.
Alicia
She slipped, catching herself with every muscle in her body. I loft.
Just kidding ;)
The loft in his bedroom was my favorite place to hang out.
John
it was an old, unused loft. dusty with age. falling apart. creaks from just the weight of its own mass. but underneath all of the grime and age, it held treasures so great, they were unexplainable to anyone.
i thought about going back to the loft, but decided against it when i realized that my mom would see my red eyes and ask me about it. where to go then?
the loft was built by some enterprising father who wanted his son to have all the extras a wooden sleeping platform would provide a state university freshman.
Sam
up in the loft, where the records are strewn about the floor, you were wearing something soft, and such a sight was anything but a bore, keep in time with the ending my dear, but don’t let the response ruin the ending, makes sure you sound sincere and there won’t be debts pending.
i fill in the space above the loft with photos and pictures i’ve taken of all the places i’ve been and want to go. i lie in bed and stare at those pictures and photos and dream and remember the days i went and the days i’d like to go.
john
It was serene watching the family of robins as they picked at seeds and bugs. As the magpie swooped in they soared up and found a safe loft in the peach tree.
Misty
My neighborhood was ambushed by the building of lofts in a vacant lot. That was my lot. Our lot and now it has disappeared.
Dan
My neighborhood was ambushed by the building of lofts in a vacant lot. That was my lot. Our lot and now it ha disappeared.
Dan
I sat in a loft pondering this existence as if the multitude of questions that it produced mattered in a way that was greater then just the reconciliation of my conscience.
Gregory saxton
There was a loft that had a bed and a soldier right beside it. The soldier slept and never wept for he was a solo rider. He understood the truth was good and lies would never help him.
Josh Clemens
I’ve always wanted to live in a loft. The slanted roof with big windows where you can see the rain hitting on gray autumn days, and maybe I’ll learn to play the saxophone as well.
Erlend Johannessen
With the first sunrise came an idea for murder. With the second came the location — sharply, clearly, through muddled thoughts I didn’t plan and didn’t understand. I saw the loft before my eyes like it was a physical thing, memorized it, searched for it, found it, crept up the stairs, and knocked, the dagger hidden behind my back.
CeeCeeElle
The loft was in complete darkness when she entered. Musty smell met her nose as she immersed herself in the dark. Slowly, she groped her way along the walls, looking for the light switch. When she found it, she quickly flipped it open, a loud sharp snap echoing across the room. Boxes upon boxes of old photo books, picture frames and antique dolls welcomed her, covered in thick dust which gathered over the years. She wandered around, trying to find that small music box her mother gave her when she turned 5 years old. But instead of a music box, a small glittering comb lying on the window pane caught her attention. It seemed new, no dust at all. And yet, as far as she knew, no one had been up there since her grandmother passed away – 36 years ago.
Moving to africa was a huge change for my husband and I. We didnt know why we replaced our comfy loft and respectable life for something so drastically different,
Nadir
loft. somewhere high, or the top of a building. or maybe its just something that remains quite similar to an attic? whatever the case may be when I see it it makes me think of rooms above.
imgonagetu
I always wanted to sleep in a loft-style bed. Like a bunk bed for grownups. I would climb the ladder at night and snuggle up against the ceiling like a moth.
The bare bones of the loft attract me instantly. It doesn’t feel too done; it feels like I have to be there and complete the last piece, that I have to get my hands dirty and put in the work and add some of myself into it to make it final.
I sat up on my perch, which resembled a loft of some sort. I thought back to those summer nights, sneaking into the barn at night. Laying under the stars in the late muggy nights. I’m glad those days are gone, as I was hiding back then.
I have a loft bed in my room. My dad and I built it. well he did most of the building. We didn’t stain it or anything now so I write all over with sharpies and stuff. My sister loves to write on it. I just hung these star lights on the inside so I can sit int he chair under it and read late at night.
Ally
She shot up from bed like a sling shot and was forced to squint her eyes. Where was she? The overwhelming sun was seeping through the windows and was blinding as the light reflected off the loft’s the bright white walls. Then she looked to her side and saw him. His perfect blonde curls falling over his peaceful face as his deep, slumbering breaths caused the bed to tremble.
I wish to my soul and I don’t know if I have a soul that I will one day look back at my loft of books and say that It was all worth while. All the money and time and mental fatigue that goes into the stretching of the conscious and love of the human condition.
I wish to my soul and I don’t know if I have a soul that I will one day look back at my loft of books and say that It was all worth while. All the money and time and mental fatigue that goes into the stretching of the conscious and love of the human condition.
Her eyes shot open as she looked around. The blinding sun caused her to squint while trying to make out her surroundings. Where was she? She saw the overwhelming white walls of the loft she inadvertently woke up in. She looked to her left and there he was. His perfect blonde curls fell upon his peaceful face as his deep slumbering breaths caused the bed to tremble.
Lauren
The loft was the best part about the small apartment. Yes, the downstairs was beautifully designed and expensive, but the loft was the little piece of home the dwelling was missing…
Valerie
She sat up and brushed the hay our of her hair, giggling. He looked down at her as if she was a prize he had won, and she loved it. They kissed again and he pinned her back down, rolling over so she was on top of him.
This was a keeper, she decided. She was in love.
Could they hear us? We were trying to be so quiet. The silence in the loft was one of people listening, embarrassed and curious, voyeurs with no view, intrigued with the sounds of sex from the people below.
youvegotwood
The view from the loft was terrific, They could see the entire event from the front window. They saw friends waving at them and asking if they could come up and join them.
Loft. Loft. It’s a nice loft, I guess. Been in the family a while, it has. Grandpa died up there. I was concieved up there. (We don’t talk about that much though.) And now it’s my loft. I wonder what new events await it.
Pegasus Moonchild
Which club to hit?
Faced with an impossible shot, he decided that getting it into the air would be the best course of action. He took his wedge with he greatest loft and swung through the ball, only to miss it completely and cost himself an extra stroke.
JamesXavier
Marla strode into the large Manhattan loft as if she owned it. “OK, Davis, where did you hide the painting?” she asked. “Hide it? Why would I need to hide it,” he replied scornfully as he pointed to the far wall where Abstract in Blue and Green hung prominently displayed. “It is mine after all.” “Yours? It was my grandfather’s. You know it and I know it,” Marla cried. “Besides, you know the curse as well as I do, and you don’t have the balls to tempt fate.”
Izolda
I’m going to live in a loft one day. It’s going to be beautiful. Everyone will marvel in the determination I had to complete such a difficult task. My kids won’t be ashamed to bring their friends to this loft because unlike any house they’ll ever live in it’ll be extraordinary.
The loft that I’ll move into when I’m old enough, strong enough, smart enough. I’ll have two kids and we won’t be poor. We’ll be well of and the loft will be lovely with all my fantastic decorations. Everyone will marvel at the sight of this loft that I have worked so hard on.
bianca
i wish i lived in a loft. then i could wake up to the sound of pigeons taking a morning stroll on my roof, or listen to the raindrops dropping … or the pigeons dropping their droppings ….
tkroache
This empty, blood stained loft obviously had been used as a secret, torturing place. The icy breeze that was rapidly shooting through the broken window made my skin crawl. Something just did not feel right, it was almost as if I had been here before.
Lofty-feathered birds fly above me, soaring. There was a time where I would have given anything to simply follow them south purely because it was south from where I was. I want to escape sometimes, fly east to Nebraska. To my love.
Why is this the word that starts off every time? This makes me think of New York, which makes me anxious, sad, and nervous. And then there’s the happy note to it; the one that whispers softly in my ear that it can happen.
She slipped, catching herself with every muscle in her body. I loft.
Just kidding ;)
The loft in his bedroom was my favorite place to hang out.
it was an old, unused loft. dusty with age. falling apart. creaks from just the weight of its own mass. but underneath all of the grime and age, it held treasures so great, they were unexplainable to anyone.
i thought about going back to the loft, but decided against it when i realized that my mom would see my red eyes and ask me about it. where to go then?
the loft was built by some enterprising father who wanted his son to have all the extras a wooden sleeping platform would provide a state university freshman.
up in the loft, where the records are strewn about the floor, you were wearing something soft, and such a sight was anything but a bore, keep in time with the ending my dear, but don’t let the response ruin the ending, makes sure you sound sincere and there won’t be debts pending.
i fill in the space above the loft with photos and pictures i’ve taken of all the places i’ve been and want to go. i lie in bed and stare at those pictures and photos and dream and remember the days i went and the days i’d like to go.
It was serene watching the family of robins as they picked at seeds and bugs. As the magpie swooped in they soared up and found a safe loft in the peach tree.
My neighborhood was ambushed by the building of lofts in a vacant lot. That was my lot. Our lot and now it has disappeared.
My neighborhood was ambushed by the building of lofts in a vacant lot. That was my lot. Our lot and now it ha disappeared.
I sat in a loft pondering this existence as if the multitude of questions that it produced mattered in a way that was greater then just the reconciliation of my conscience.
There was a loft that had a bed and a soldier right beside it. The soldier slept and never wept for he was a solo rider. He understood the truth was good and lies would never help him.
I’ve always wanted to live in a loft. The slanted roof with big windows where you can see the rain hitting on gray autumn days, and maybe I’ll learn to play the saxophone as well.
With the first sunrise came an idea for murder. With the second came the location — sharply, clearly, through muddled thoughts I didn’t plan and didn’t understand. I saw the loft before my eyes like it was a physical thing, memorized it, searched for it, found it, crept up the stairs, and knocked, the dagger hidden behind my back.
The loft was in complete darkness when she entered. Musty smell met her nose as she immersed herself in the dark. Slowly, she groped her way along the walls, looking for the light switch. When she found it, she quickly flipped it open, a loud sharp snap echoing across the room. Boxes upon boxes of old photo books, picture frames and antique dolls welcomed her, covered in thick dust which gathered over the years. She wandered around, trying to find that small music box her mother gave her when she turned 5 years old. But instead of a music box, a small glittering comb lying on the window pane caught her attention. It seemed new, no dust at all. And yet, as far as she knew, no one had been up there since her grandmother passed away – 36 years ago.
Moving to africa was a huge change for my husband and I. We didnt know why we replaced our comfy loft and respectable life for something so drastically different,
loft. somewhere high, or the top of a building. or maybe its just something that remains quite similar to an attic? whatever the case may be when I see it it makes me think of rooms above.
I always wanted to sleep in a loft-style bed. Like a bunk bed for grownups. I would climb the ladder at night and snuggle up against the ceiling like a moth.
The bare bones of the loft attract me instantly. It doesn’t feel too done; it feels like I have to be there and complete the last piece, that I have to get my hands dirty and put in the work and add some of myself into it to make it final.
falling crazy up down inside place to call our own, let me fall, let me fall, high, sky, let it fly, place, call it up watch it burn falling
they cuddled up closely to one another in the hay, hoping no one heard them or had the slightest clue what had just happened.
I sat up on my perch, which resembled a loft of some sort. I thought back to those summer nights, sneaking into the barn at night. Laying under the stars in the late muggy nights. I’m glad those days are gone, as I was hiding back then.
I have a loft bed in my room. My dad and I built it. well he did most of the building. We didn’t stain it or anything now so I write all over with sharpies and stuff. My sister loves to write on it. I just hung these star lights on the inside so I can sit int he chair under it and read late at night.
She shot up from bed like a sling shot and was forced to squint her eyes. Where was she? The overwhelming sun was seeping through the windows and was blinding as the light reflected off the loft’s the bright white walls. Then she looked to her side and saw him. His perfect blonde curls falling over his peaceful face as his deep, slumbering breaths caused the bed to tremble.
I wish to my soul and I don’t know if I have a soul that I will one day look back at my loft of books and say that It was all worth while. All the money and time and mental fatigue that goes into the stretching of the conscious and love of the human condition.
I wish to my soul and I don’t know if I have a soul that I will one day look back at my loft of books and say that It was all worth while. All the money and time and mental fatigue that goes into the stretching of the conscious and love of the human condition.
Her eyes shot open as she looked around. The blinding sun caused her to squint while trying to make out her surroundings. Where was she? She saw the overwhelming white walls of the loft she inadvertently woke up in. She looked to her left and there he was. His perfect blonde curls fell upon his peaceful face as his deep slumbering breaths caused the bed to tremble.
The loft was the best part about the small apartment. Yes, the downstairs was beautifully designed and expensive, but the loft was the little piece of home the dwelling was missing…
She sat up and brushed the hay our of her hair, giggling. He looked down at her as if she was a prize he had won, and she loved it. They kissed again and he pinned her back down, rolling over so she was on top of him.
This was a keeper, she decided. She was in love.
Could they hear us? We were trying to be so quiet. The silence in the loft was one of people listening, embarrassed and curious, voyeurs with no view, intrigued with the sounds of sex from the people below.
The view from the loft was terrific, They could see the entire event from the front window. They saw friends waving at them and asking if they could come up and join them.
The loft was damp and dark. it was full of cobwebs and had a very musty smell. It was not a place one would like to enter.
Loft. Loft. It’s a nice loft, I guess. Been in the family a while, it has. Grandpa died up there. I was concieved up there. (We don’t talk about that much though.) And now it’s my loft. I wonder what new events await it.
Which club to hit?
Faced with an impossible shot, he decided that getting it into the air would be the best course of action. He took his wedge with he greatest loft and swung through the ball, only to miss it completely and cost himself an extra stroke.
Marla strode into the large Manhattan loft as if she owned it. “OK, Davis, where did you hide the painting?” she asked. “Hide it? Why would I need to hide it,” he replied scornfully as he pointed to the far wall where Abstract in Blue and Green hung prominently displayed. “It is mine after all.” “Yours? It was my grandfather’s. You know it and I know it,” Marla cried. “Besides, you know the curse as well as I do, and you don’t have the balls to tempt fate.”
I’m going to live in a loft one day. It’s going to be beautiful. Everyone will marvel in the determination I had to complete such a difficult task. My kids won’t be ashamed to bring their friends to this loft because unlike any house they’ll ever live in it’ll be extraordinary.
The loft that I’ll move into when I’m old enough, strong enough, smart enough. I’ll have two kids and we won’t be poor. We’ll be well of and the loft will be lovely with all my fantastic decorations. Everyone will marvel at the sight of this loft that I have worked so hard on.
i wish i lived in a loft. then i could wake up to the sound of pigeons taking a morning stroll on my roof, or listen to the raindrops dropping … or the pigeons dropping their droppings ….
This empty, blood stained loft obviously had been used as a secret, torturing place. The icy breeze that was rapidly shooting through the broken window made my skin crawl. Something just did not feel right, it was almost as if I had been here before.