The raven sat and contemplated the traveler beneath the moon's harsh gaze. She struggled onwards, leaning heavily on her cane, cloak pulled tight against the bitter cold. Any moment now, she would look up and see her fate sillouetted against the silvery orb.
Just then, a cloud passed between them. The sudden shadow caused her gaze to flit skyward, but all she saw were cotton clouds outlined by silver light. The harbinger of death waited for her to notice him, but once again her eyes looked earthward, focused on the path before her, now brightly illumined by the heavenly bodies....
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. The boy standing across the street couldn't help but notice her. He thought she looked a little curious as to what he was doing just standing on the other side of the street.
He totally forgotten the reason himself. He couldn't wrench his eyes off her no matter how hard he tried.
Her dark brown hair ran down her sides like silk, ending where her waist begins. The crimson red of her gown brought out the tan of her skin, and fit just lovely on her...
It was so amazing. Posideon and Aphrodite swimming together, in the ocean. Zeus wondered why the first goddess of the earth and his brother were acting like they weren't total enemies. He jumped like a dolphin and made her laugh. She joined him in the air and they splashed around the crystal clear ocean. Zeus smiled. There was a bond forming here. Sons of either were going to be fuming. Not to mention Ares. he'd probably beat the seaweed out of poor Posideon once he found out.
The running wasn't the best part - but it was the part he did best. With pumping arms and striding legs, he moved gracefully around the track, passing others without a second thought or glance, as though there were mere statues standing still and in his way.
The best part was the winning. But he wasn't a very good winner. Oh, he smiled and shook hands and took his trophy or medal and posed for photos, but he was already thinking about the next race. And when fellow runners came to congratulate him, he didn't care. He was, if such...
She sat cold in her bedroom; freezing. Holding the book to her chest like she couldn't let it go. That book held all of her secrets. Good and bad, ones that could even get her, and some others arrested.
She knew she had to pull herself together; at this point she was sobbing, thinking of everything that was going on in her life, why she was sitting in a nightshirt in the 60 degree house when it was -8 outside, when she could be bundled up somewhere else where it was actually warm outside.
She opened her journal for some...
Marilyn's breath felt thick, like syrup in her throat and coating her tongue, she'd run so far already, and she didn't care that she could barely breathe as a result of it. The alley was empty, the pavement clattering hollowly under her soft sandals, and the sweat coating her palm loosened at the string of the balloon she held until it slipped and ascended, quickly snagging against a fire escape and popping.
Marilyn laughed, stopped running and stared up at the remainings of the balloon, the silver string winking in a dart of sunlight, the torn rubber fragments dangling from...
He licked the salt crystal off her neck.
Couldn't resist.
Face-down in the sand dunes as the early morning sun rose.
The sea glittered the same harsh light as the salt gleaming off her back.
He felt sick. But there she was. Drawing him close.
Why was he here again? The surfboard bobbed on the sanddunes. Oh yes. He wanted to help here. A naked half buried body on the beach. He tried to get up.
'Miss- are you alright?'
Her laboured breathing stop. She turned around to look at him.
Gleaming eyes. Sharp teeth. Cut cheeks.
Wait gills?
She...
They were listening. Ears pressed against the glass, as if it were opaque, like the doors they used to listen through when Kat and Patrick used to fight.
There was nobody in the room behind the window, just the green house and the plants which grew too slowly to notice, but somehow enough to garner praise once they had become large and showy. Lillian seemed to be listening with concentration and Indy, he couldn't help but feel like he had missed the point.
"What is it we're listening for, again?"
"Shh."
"But I'm-"
"Shh. I said shh. You're listening them...
He sat down at his designated desk, amongst the 45 other students in the room and used his #2 pencil to tear the the prompt book open along it's perforated edges once the clock started. The first thing he noticed was the first page of blank lined notebook paper that had been supplied, on which he was expected to write, according to whatever prompt the state board of education decided appropriate that year to judge a person's worth in two and a half hours.
He looked on the opposite page for the prompt which would decide his future. Nothing. Another...
The wind hit my face just right. My cheeks instantly turned red and i put my head down into my mitten-covered hands to sheild the cold.
We stood in the driveway as the snow swirled around the neighborhood, you placed your hand on my shoulder and led me to your warm car.
The heat was steaming the windows; we removed our gloves and hats. Dashboard Confessional was playing on the college radio station, and I sang along in my head.
We talked for atleast and hour, in between what we knew were goodbye kisses, but not saying goodbye at all...