The princess ran through the halls, trying not to scream. It was iminent that she get to the throne room before the bishop did. She slid into the shadows, and instantly became one. Suddenly, the bishop burst into the hall, the ceremonial knife clutched in his hand. She ran into the throne room. As soon as the light from the windows touched her skin, she became solid once again, and visible to the murderous bishop. He grabbed her robe and she fell to the ground. She tried desperately to claw her way to the throne, fighting the bishop's strength. She...
For some reason, I couldn't stop staring at the picture. It was... gorgeous, sure. The colors were somewhat exaggerated, leaving me with the sick feeling you get when you eat something that's got so much sugar in it, it might as well be syrup. The writing at the top is what really got my attention. I never really understood the whole point of Christ.
I mean, here we are, a bunch of people living on this planet that God created, and we're all pieces of crap destined to go to hell because we're just that bad. And along comes Christ...
she inhaled her controlling her breathes the interview is in 2 minutes and she already violated rule 1
don't be late. she couldn't really give an explanation as of to why she was. she couldn't let them know which would be
breaking rule two and she's already broken 4 rules exposing the rules
It was morn in the Garden of the Hesperides. Clouds of warm mist floated around, cloaking everything in white. The three Hesperides were dancing around Hera's golden apple tree, singing to make it grow. Ladon burst from his cave, growling. "Everyone's a critic. Quiet Ladon! You're upsetting the tree!" Hope, the eldest Hesperide, yelled at their scaly roomate. They sat down near the roots of the enormous tree and waited for their 9:00 appointment. "Cousin Apollo should be here in 3...2...1." Peace said, looking at the vines.
Time is right in front of me a constant reminder of where and when I need to go,go,go. Time tells me how to be according to my calendar.
We stopped along the path and he leaned back into the tree as if it were a place to rest. He deemed it so and there I took a photograph. We were late and time wasn't on our side so we were going to thank time and hold it tight against ourselves. We would rock it to sleep so that we could be free to enjoy the path. At the end of...
When I was younger, I remember all of the pressure that was placed on me to be good enough.
The training that I had to endure, to get where I am today. At the top of my game.
But I keep asking myself? "Is this really what I want? Am I'm living for myself, or for others?"
I turned the medallion in my hands as I thought of how all I wanted to do was to make them proud! My parents, and my coach.
But now that's in the past.
Now I realize that what I want, and what they...
Spinning.
The tiny clockwork bird danced (for want of a better term) in a circle, twirling, singing out its jaunty song.
She sat, watching it sing out its tune, listening to the unique tinny sound of the music box - there was something about that music, that paticular brand, which brought her back to childhood. As a child she had watched the bird, watched it in her mother's palm.
Her mother had, briefly, convinced her that this was a real bird, that this was what happened to them when they were caught, tamed. That you could teach them these songs,...
In hindsight, the solution was obvious.
How could he have missed it, standing up between slats on the bench?
Well, actually, that was understandable. The vial was brown-ish, the solution was brown, the bench was brown.
But why was it brown? It should be clear. Or maybe a milky-white. And why was it precipitating? C'mon, everything dissolves in a nitrate solution!
He must have disturbed the solution somewhat when he dropped it an hour ago.
He picked up the vial, and poured it in the vial he had waiting on the countertop.
In hindsight, if he still had sight, it...
War. Violence. We all see it on the tv, and the internet. It's all the hatred. It's everywhere now. There's so much hate, and all for no reason. But I know one thing that's true, I won't take part in it. I won't hate someone because of the color of their skin, or what they look like. Or who they love, and what they listen to. I will love you if you love me, and only hate if you show me hate. If you show me kindness, I will show you kindness in turn. But if you expect me to...
The sun this morning grows short thick shadows from the cobblestones. A sweaty head against the curb, red hatching at his temple, bleeds dark light onto the lane.
Did someone win last night?
No, the square is too clean.
But it's too late for so little noise.
Perhaps the town has emptied its contents into the universe, jettisoned the citizenry, the mutts and ferals, the tourists and the visitors.
Oh, the visitors.
Who were those visitors? Cheerless, I thought at first. But, no, I reconsidered, occupied.
I look back at the sweaty head, shake mine, and continue, hand in my...