The conversation lasted two words: 'Come on.'
She couldn't refuse. His large, blue eyes pleaded with her and as he held out his hand, she smiled and took it. He lead her into the garden and down the narrow path flanked by roses on one side and neat lawn on the other. The sun was beating down on the top of their heads, and he started to run, pulling her along. She started to laugh.
They reached the very spot, and he pointed solemnly. Lisa bent slowly, tucking her grey skirt beneath her carefully to stop herself toppling over. The...
"Mary?" a middle aged, crows footed woman queried as she stepped over the threshold.
"Mistress…" the young maid gestured her in, both blushing. Somewhat flustered the farmer's wife surveyed the room.
"Tom!" she blushed on blushes. Something the old woman had not thought possible. Interest upon Interest. Clearly no Pythagorean shape would ever do this web justice.
"I haven't said naught, Po… I mean, Mistress." the plough boy blurted. He was good at blurting, the witch noticed. It was good he had found what he was good at, at such a young age.
"Meg, I need your help again…" the...
She is running down a long road that she is not sure where it leads. It's a road deep in the country, there are tall dark tree's that surround her. Her heart is pumping through her chest, she can barely catch her breath. She tries to turn around to see if he is going to catch her, but she doesn't know where he went. The fear of him catching her keeps her going. She hears the sounds of the tree's leaves rustling in the wind and this sound alone makes her heart pump even harder. In her mind she...
The zephyr through the thin strands of hair on his forehead produced a little fandango; the wind brought the music and the sun brought the party.
The Queen had personally requested his presence for the opening of this exhibition, it was meant to show the culture, the class, of the kingdom.
But this Bohemian was not here at some petty whim of Her Majesty. He was here for something more majestic than any monarch, that most glittering, glamorous goal. He was here for a girl.
Golden hair, blue eyes, red lips, petite smile; a man would kill for such a...
Whenever the mailperson knocks
They deliver to us a new box
I don't know from whom
But I wish for their doom
On all of their houses, a pox
Cute
Cute and smiling
If only she could have held it, forever Then she would have been...useful? what she was meant to be? fulfilled? fulfilling?
Personalities are a funny thing. Sometimes you don't like what you are meant to like sometimes you don't act the way you want to act you say no to all the right things and "oh God yes!" to so so many wrong things and you become less cute and drifty and lost.
Even on Christmas
Even with snow
Not what they expected, if they expected anything,
Other than cute.
Cute and smiling
These hands. These hands have felt and touched so much
in their years of attachment to the wrist. Now growing old
with creases deepening and becoming weathered by time.
And these eyes. The optic scope of the world that this body
has had the power to see through and deeply into the
wonderful mysteries that surround us- but some may forget,
as if there are greater things to think about than where do colors
come from. And these ears, hearing their way through city streets
by night and taken to different heights by day as the world
erupts with a...
Es ging alles furchtbar schnell. Ein Kreischen, ein plötzlicher Ruck. Irgendwie schrien plötzlich alle durcheinander, ich glaube, ich hab auch geschrien. Aber so ganz sicher bin ich mir nicht. Meine Ohren fühlten sich an, als seien sie in Watte gepackt worden.
Absurder Weise gefiel mir dieses Gefühl und es wurde noch besser. Diese Schwerelosigkeitskammern, die man immer in Astronautenfilmen sieht, wirken bestimmt so ähnlich. Irgendwie fand ich es schade, sowas noch nie ausprobiert zu haben.
Alle verloren den Boden unter den Füßen und die Umgebung begann sich zu drehen. Wieder ein Ruck. Es war zu Ende. Glaube ich zumindest. Ich...
It was because he was different, not like everyone else. That's what he told himself. That's what the mirror told him. Whenever he looked in it he was confronted by just how different he was. Whenever someone looked at him, he could see his difference in their eyes, in the way their eyes flickered away from him then back again. Unable to look at him. Unable to look away. Once he'd daydreamed about meeting a girl who couldn't see him, a blind girl. She'd fall in love with him because of his who he was, not because of what he...
I really don't remember how exactly I got to this point, but I'm here, so I might as well just deal with it.
"We should really head back now. It's getting too dark."
"No, let's stay. I'm sure the sun will come up every second now."
"Are you serious? It's..."
She couldn't read her watch. It displayed just symbols, like mine. They must have broken when we crashed onto that sidewalk. We're unstuck in time now.
"Isn't it late at night? The sun's not gonna come up for another few hours."
"No, it'll come up. You'll see."
We waited for...