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He was waiting again.
He stood in the front room of the long, low, sloping stone house with blue trimming, hands in his pockets. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of black shades, which matched the color of his dark attire. A silver car was parked diagonally--hurriedly--in the drive.
He looked at his watch. This was the last time hed wait.
You SoundYou said to me, you sound like a firework. Ahhh oooh eee
I tried to tuck your stray hair, as it corkscrewed, but it coiled round my finger, like a curling cat tail round your leg.
I could see the sky-cracking-colors of a rocket in the night.
Love Knot Collab TextLove is a question mark.
How do you define love? Where do you start?
Theres romantic love, of course, but theres also friendship love, and the simple, innocent love of a child.
Theres love that has weathered through the storm, like the look you may sometimes catch glancing between two whove been married so long that the little tree their son planted has surpassed their child in growth and become a towering giant.
Theres love in the tense, alert form of a Labrador dog laying by the front door, awaiting his masters step, and in the whiskers of the kitten on your lap that give a trusting twitch in his sleep.
Theres love in the bouquet left by the gravestone, in the rosary beads between the gnarled fingers, and in the cookies delivered by the children to the new neighbors.
Theres love in glances, and rumpled letters, and in the small gestures.
Theres love in the hug which shares a little of the soul, in the hand made gift, in the broad
Eleanor's Story[1563 words]
She had a good, old fashioned name to fit her old, worn-out body. She also had the white hair, curling around her head like a great, shaggy bush, and the wrinkled skin like crinkled aluminum foil that were the classic signs of being old. But she wasnt like the others at the home for senior citizens. All of them had something well, something that made them unique.
First there was Bird Man. He spent hours near the lobby in one of the dark green arm chairs that sat in front of the large glass case with a screen in the top where live birds flitted about from branch to branch. Hed named them too--if you started some small talk with him hed take charge of the conversation and before you could blink drive it right towards his beloved birds. Not only would he tell you their names but hed also tell his reasons for the names. Bird Man had a beak-like nose and quick, beady eyes that caught every flickering flutter of wings. He had a
Instructions to be left Behind[453 words]
Mr. Williams left the list on the counter. The paper was a faded, half-hearted yellow that seemed apologetic. The old mans handwriting was a neat, flowing, polite cursive that, if it had been any smaller, wouldve been illegible.
The biggest cat, Henry, was a long haired ginger, with eyes deeply full of the accumulated knowledge that age brings, and a mane that distinguished him like a star does a general from a regular recruit. He enjoyed sitting, curled, in the old maroon armchair that had fabric peeling away from the back, like the marks of a whip on a human back, where cat claws had torn it.
Next was Max. He had white fur with streaks of orange that went out horizontally from the sides of his eyes to meet up behind his head with another two lines. Those two lines went, parallel, between his eyes and then flowed down his neck to fade into his back. Max had something about him something predatory. Whereas Henry was the old, battle-worn warrior
Strawberry Story for Ordie[475 words]
The house lay in the dip of a valley like the last bit of cereal in a breakfast bowl. A great dark green sweater of moss clung to the chimney of the house. Ivy twined about the windows and the tan shingles stretched out on the roof bathed themselves in the noon sun.
It was a very old fashioned, quaint little house. It had the appearance of organized chaos--it was in good repair, but nature was trying to overtake it. Perhaps it was a summer cottage, abandoned in the winter, and this would explain why it lay dormant now. The lush green carpeting of the valley, and the colorful flower blossoms popping up here and there, hinted of Springs soft touch. So too did the garden.
The garden was just starting to awaken. From the open graves of wilted plants poked new, fresh ones, pushing their way through the earth and towards the open, blue, beautiful sky. Among the ranks of these new plants was a little strawberry plant. The strawberry plant grew slowly, but finally produ
ParalysisWe drive across the St. Joseph River. The bridge seems like sanity, the river below madness. Not violent or thrashing waves, but deep, cold, life-sucking drops of water. The bridge is sane and safe. We pass a small park, there is a statue made of mirrors thereshards of glass driven at odd angles into the groundso that as we pass our images are shredded. All cars that pass it are ravaged and torn, left in shreds.
Outside the tightly woven layers of plastic, metal and glass that surround me the world seems grumpy. Snowflakes ride the wind, abandoning grace for sheer speed, slamming into everything and anything at all but the angry wind is worse. Air velocity ventriloquism on all sides. Past the buildings on main street, huddled inside themselves against the harsh, sneering wind. A pedestrian jerks head left and right, their red scarf yearning to yank free, their huge violet coat enveloping. I can see the scarf about to escape and leap into the air in my mind
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More