Reality doesn't always seem to fit me
So I create my own, my own characters, my own climate, my own atmospere
I refuse to sink into emotional spam of current media
I admit, I created the earliest stories out of pain and mysery
loneliness is the infinite source of stories
So I write down and create, first it was automatic,
now it's half-conscious
and I hope there are people that like it and accept it and can taste it and delight like I do...
and make their own stories out of mine
The Strong Do Eat by Pepper-the-phoenix, literature
Literature
The Strong Do Eat
Alister threw a few coins into the old woman’s tin can as he, Booker, and Melvin walked towards Forest Park Apartments in downtown Seattle. Alister popped up his trench coat collar as the wind blew the ice rain down their necks.
“Why would anyone live here?” snapped Booker, wringing his hat once they entered the apartment complex lobby.
“The forests are supposed to be beautiful,” said Melvin, the only one smart enough to bring an umbrella with him.
Melvin was a pasty white Oregon native whose dry, bald head was a source of irritation for the drenched Booker and his specked grey goatee made him look like a reject
Chapter Seven: Clubs the Pull of the Crowd by Aalinoor, literature
Literature
Chapter Seven: Clubs the Pull of the Crowd
By Tuesday, Jude was already getting into a routine. She did as much of her morning homework as she could at lunch, then spent at least an hour recovering from P.E. before dinner, then after dinner she read in the courtyard for a while before heading upstairs to the day room and the homework for her afternoon classes. The others were settling into something of a routine as well, with Mary usually retreating to her room after dinner. Her prickliness had diminished a bit, but some things could still trigger it, and she seemed to want to avoid causing trouble. Devon, on the other hand, seemed to be making an effort to be actively pleasant to Jude – mostly by avoiding any discussion of Lorelei Lacy. She seemed unable to reconcile those books with what she saw Jude doing on a daily basis, so she had evidently decided to ignore what she didn’t like. Jude was in the day room Wednesday night, finishing up her Algebra homework. They hadn’t lost a single student from Mrs. Sloane’s first