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Snippets of before and after1.1Snippets of before and after4 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Smiles are devilishly conniving things. And just because a person had a particularly nice one did not mean that their personality reflected that false appearance. But for some reason, his smile set her at ease. Yet that only made her more suspicious of him. Because she knew many, many people with that warm smile of his, and they all had failed her expectations in the past.
Sometimes she wanted to say that he was different. Sometimes, she just wanted to believe it. And more often than not, she found herself falling under his persuasive spell.
It was getting rather ridiculous.
1.2
To be quite honest, he didn’t know what to think o
FishFishFish3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
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Oh, my lovely fish
It gives me great joy to see you swimming
When I go on holidays I miss you and hope you are well
At night it gives me happiness to feed you and watch you
Every day you swim with your friend Silvie
Sometimes at night I like to listen to the sound of your pump
No other fish of mine has lived so long so that must be a sign that you love me
Even if you die tomorrow I will always remember you
Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay4 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!”
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It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of ima
16. Love16. Love4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"...let's grow old together," he said, nuzzling her neck. She laughed and curled her orange-tipped fingers into his palm. "Only if we still have ice cream."
Mama?Mama?Mama?4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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It was going to be a bad winter. Marquis could feel it in his hands, they’d never quite recovered, and tell by the way the blood was struggling to pump through them as the days got darker and shorter. He wasn’t old by a long-shot – Thirty next year, still good! – but he completely sympathised when the old stable hands began their groaning. Powder white snow turned grey as he sludged through it, soot from his boots leaving a trail behind him as he fought his way to the main hall. All around him horses were being saddled and loaded up and men in uniform milled re
Gingerbread HouseThey were sitting silently on the counter, awaiting duty; 3/4 teaspoon of baking soda, 3 1/4 cups of flour, and 2 teaspoons of ground ginger.Gingerbread House5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She mixed them delicately, grinning to herself. The kitchen was her kingdom; where she resided and did whatever the hell she wanted. And, most of the time, she just wanted to cook. Her flour powdered hands rubbed quickly over her stark white apron as she hummed a nice little tune. Winter sunlight streamed in from the small window above the sink, but she could barely remember that it was February. The rip-off calendar next to the spice cabinet was five years old.
Her smile curled higher as she whipped
EvieEvieEvie5 years ago in Mystery & Suspense More Like This
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Around you the log cabin is cosy. It’s one of those picturesque little places in the mountains and, as always happens here in winter, it’s snowing hard. You’re sitting in front of a roaring fireplace with your back against the sofa (Though isn’t it an odd through; a fireplace in a log cabin?). The rug beneath you is thick and your bare toes could grip at it were you inclined to try. A mug sits beside you on the floor, still steaming from the pot. The light is dim, your mates have crashed for the night and get real anal if you leave the lights on while they
Mind VomitI pixelate IcarusMind Vomit5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to forfeit my counterproductivity.
Who needs rose tinted glasses
when you have
glazed eyes enamelled sighs
and sugarcoated insomnia.
I long for movie tomorrows
instead of these
xylophonic beclazone dreams.
I want to saturate the grey matter
into technicolour
without a hint of remorse.
I want to play the undersleeper,
pinning back my eyelids with
the idiolect of those I'd like to know better.
Do you want to hear my mind vomit or should I
just turn the page and start again...?
A Sergeants VoiceToday was a day Calhoun wouldn’t soon forget. Not because it was a good day, no. That she wouldn’t mind at all. She could use a good day, or anything compared to this. Not only had she had a bad day of incompetent players but now her throat was killing her. IT would have been nice to just have that, she could go home, and rest and no one would be the wiser that she had gotten sick. But the way her voice was starting to crack and vanish was downright embarrassing.A Sergeants Voice4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Real threatening to yell out orders to your men and have your voice squeak and crack like kid going through puberty. She thanked the mod that her men respected he
Etrigan sample scriptJASON BLOOD : BEARER OF THE DEMON.Etrigan sample script2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Page 1
Panel 1: Tall panel. A sword, handle up and straight out of Arthurian legend, sits dead center of the panel. It is held very straight, like the sword in the stone. We can not see the blade past it's mid point.
Panel 2: Zoom out. It is sticking out of the gut of a heavyset man, his girth being what held the blade with such solidarity. He's fat and ugly and meant to carry with him dark feelings of consumerism. We are in a mall, mostly empty with hints of carnage. Black slacks attached to a fit man stride by the body.
Jason Blood: Close the grimoire, child. It ends here.
Panel 3: There are ten young
Femme FatalityTHE QUESTION AND THE CASE OF THE FEMME FATALITYFemme Fatality2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It would be a cliche to say her legs went on forever, but they go a few seconds longer than the average. The dress is tighter than plastic wrap, the lips stuck in a defiant pout with endless black holes painted on the eyes and hair darker than the bottom of a bottle of ink. It was all too idealized, more like how art types with too much free time and too little fresh air paint women than the slapdash brush strokes of reality.
Problem is, she's dead.
I don't know how many people saw her before I got here, if anyone had passed by and decided to keep it to themselves because dealing w
Carry onHe was angry.Carry on4 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
His breath pounded into the air, left little clouds of vapour against the cold. He hadn't felt like this in a while. The hatred was balled behind his eyes, heat that rimmed his eyes red.
His nose was beginning to run.
His fingertips were almost numb with the cold, the cold that wasn't enough to dull his hot anger or the sharp pain down his side. He shivered.
He was slumped against the metal wall of the half-empty industrial freezer, knees drawn nearly to his chest, arms hanging lifelessly at his sides. A few hunks of meat and some crates of medicine were all that remained in the room, on a few metal shelves. A handgun, his
belltownthe breeders are in heatbelltown6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rabid in the city street
heterosexual heathens feast
perfume and semen reek
consume
devour
feed
collage jocks and newage sluts
there all out in Daddys car
spreading copious disease
Merry UnbirthdayHe smiled secretly as the last woman leftMerry Unbirthday9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Carrying beneath an arm a circular box
His skill at subterfuge had become deft
He may be dead, but his head was not full of rocks.
Ah the life of a zombie--or rather unlife
More glorious than most might presume
The world would fall with a whimper, not in strife
But now, he decided, back to the tomb.
He knew his brothers were doing their work
But why not enjoy things while you can?
He knew when to hide, when to move, when to lurk
Lifting a simple teapot from a stand.
He picked up a hat, put it on, danced around
Poured himself a cup of dark liquid
Viscous and red and salty, making no sound
Story of My Life - Day OneFebruary 12, 2008Story of My Life - Day One5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“Need you to change the baby’s diaper.”
Her left-to-right scan of the page in Spin magazine continued for another three or four seconds before she looked up, a glaze coating the blank stare in her eyes, a stare carrying the subtle notion of consideration. You could almost see, if you were paying attention, the question in her mother’s suggestion rolling around in her head, bouncing off of nodes and matter here and there.
Finally, she broke the line and sighed, aggravated and heavy with the weight of a 6 a.m. morning and a 11 p.m. night. Standing, she took the boy and carried him off.
Squirmy littl
Story of My Life - Day TwoFebruary 27, 2008Story of My Life - Day Two5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Finals day, and her knowledge of Presidents Roosevelt through Coolidge wasn’t enough this time. The grin like a half-crescent moon that broke across her face in early morning, when hopes were high for making grades in the upper alphabet, fell as the gleaming piece of paper – all organized lines and small print, neat columns and the blank for her name – was set down before her and she could see the specificity of the questions...
Who knew?
She was a “big picture” kind of person. Specificity was not her middle name. She didn’t have a middle name, which, she mulled, might have been the reason
AnniversaryAnniversaryAnniversary3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Their meetings were always hurried, full of touches that were just a little too hard and kisses that involved too much tooth. Neither complained, there was no time for them to argue now. No time for prolonged, wordless struggles as to who was on top, no time to tease. It just happened.
It was only in the afterglow, the bittersweet sweat and laboured breaths, that they talked. Quiet murmurs accompanied by lips on skin, a squeeze of the hand on a hip.
"I haven't got long." Jaye would say, his once perfectly straightened and styled blond hair now a m
SolsticeSolsticeSolstice3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
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Medici castle was on a scale that was rarely built on these days. Three hours ride out of Argonia at a gallop, it sat atop a cliff set just in from the sea, proudly overlooking the de'Medici's traditional holdings to Argonia's west. The land had been in the family for generations, and their line could be traced back even further than that. They were a force in politics, a well-worn family name that would come to Argonia's aid when asked and their constant grip on land so close to the city proved that.
However, it hardly made the place more welcoming in the winter
Hot Hotter Hot Hottest IntroMy balls were sticking to my inner thigh like a baby seal clinging to an Antarctic shore. Unfortunately, the camera was pointed right at me, so I couldn't do the leg-shake maneuver to get them loose. I saw the set of “’Hello, Good Morning!’ with Buster” through two pea-sized holes drilled into my velvet helmet. Crayola had puked on the walls, the floor, the blocks, the rug, and even Buster. That was me, the rainbow-colored dog that came up on TV from dawn ‘til noon. Outside of Buster’s Play Pen was the black, soulless collection of cameras and producers and directors sitting in fold-up chairs who occasionally yelHot Hotter Hot Hottest Intro4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Midnight SnacksI hope that my leaving is just a minor hurtMidnight Snacks4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yet knowing that worse leads to worse
And how fretting multiplies, but starts inert
I will remind you of what we have with verse
Our love is like an ice box that sits bold
In the corner of a kitchen, dormant and hushed
A warm lifeline feeding and keeping the insides cold
Even as it works at its own pace, never rushed
The best goodbye would be in the box’s back
Taken only when loneliness paints the dark skies
Then, it would be drawn from the very last rack
Like a pint of rocky road in “Comfort Me” size
So I say, with love entwined in lines and feet
Despite the curving
SelfishSelfishSelfish4 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
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It was a hurried, messy meeting. Over a month had passed and while neither of them particularly liked the risk involved, what was meant to be a quick report had rapidly turned into a fully blown make out session. Mattie, tall, dark and still clad in his three-day-worn military colours had made short work of shoving all of Marquis’ neatly stacked paperwork onto the floor, pressing the smaller man down onto the varnished wood instead. Marquis would have protested were he not so occupied by the tongue down his throat and Mattie’s heavy hands tugging at his hair. He’d
Four over Five - KiribanFour over FiveFour over Five - Kiriban5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
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Whoever’s idea it was to host a bar in the beached hull of a long-forgotten mariner should be labelled a genius. The black sea sloshed sleepily outside, blanketed by a sky loose-knit enough for the stars to peek through. I’m romanticising it all; grungy high-rises pushed the beach back day by day, sand was doped up on forgotten syringes and Heaven lay like some beached whale against the moon.
Heaven. Stupid name for a bar, really. I’d lost track of how many drunkards had shambled in hollering for entertainment, having mistaken the buzzing neon sign outsi
Re: sound of raintiptap on tin roofsRe: sound of rain5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
as the world cries a message
that we fail to hear
To be a Guitar+istLike from afar, the guitar mumblesTo be a Guitar+ist5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The buzzing crowd then heaves and fumbles
The leering ceiling shudders--
My sight blurs with sweat as I make the strings purr
Love is such a lazy note
Nevermind if alluring fingers always find--
They strut and dumbly dote along
The wanton path paved down my spine
The melody's beat swirls 'round my fingertips
The mellow bass suddenly invades my veins and I'm speechless
Metal cords smile into my skin-- make my back stiff
She smiles and sways while she's falling off her feet
Love goads me to play
Crackling lightning inside of me is all I can take--
The old hollow in me is missing today
My filtere
Sta.sh
