The fun only ends when you have to please others.
That's called work...
The Lock KeeperTHE LOCK KEEPER
© 2010 Bonnie Watson
Eamon Lorccan felt, rather than saw, the presence of the key approach the Temple doors. Behind him, a small chest perched in the center of an altar. A constant glow of pulsating crimson haze encircling the chest beat with each anticipated moment of Eamon's heart. From around his neck, the silver medallion symbolizing his family's heritage did nothing to console the young man's doubts. Had he made the right decision?
It was the slam of entrance doors flung wide that readied his first spell. Faces mattered little, for his full attention was drawn to the key held in front of the one who entered. Rage boiled through the young man's veins. His own hand lifted, and a string of flames sprang from his outstretched fingers. The Temple's wooden pews disintegrated. Even after the flames extinguished, parts of the floor and stone walls continued to glow red hot.
Eamon stood breathless, hand still outstretched. Dark swirls of smoke lingered in the air. A si
Going CrazyI'm going crazy here.
I'm going crazy there.
I'm going crazy standing.
Or siting in a chair.
My screen is all a blur.
My hair is standing on end.
I've ceased to read my work.
I'm in a state of zen.
My boss is out of town.
I'm slacking at my desk.
It's almost time to go,
And give my eyes a rest.
I've had enough of this.
I'm going to count to ten.
Oh look it's time to get!
Yay! It's the weekend!
Partner in CrimeAZRIANDRATHORN
Partner in Crime
Copyright © 2010 Bonnie Watson
Up before first crow; rode out to meet the sun cresting the tops of Mount Glory. I tilted my wide-brimmed hat to block out most of the rays, then turned my horse to face town. The grass tip I'd stuck between my teeth early on was beginning to taste bitter. I slid it over. Wasn't tobacco, but it would do - now that I was on patrol.
I could feel the heat building into the morning, and I cracked a grin only a passing Horned lizard could see. A few moments more and my Duster would activate. Not the most complicated defense, but useful when scouring the desert in pursuit of possible outlaws. Supposing I was thankful to have been given the chance to redeem myself. All those years of criminal acts the Guild must have known. They wouldn't have accepted me, let alone granted such a fine coat to display my Weapon Caster skills. Mighty thankful, if not a bit haughty.
Tilley must h
BOOK ONE OF BLUE MOON RISING TRILOGY
Copyright © 2010 Bonnie Watson
The clank of chain echoed within the confines of her dungeon prison. She worked the shackles, with no luck at loosening them beyond the downy feathering covering her cloven hoofs. White hair bristled along her neck in anticipation of someone approaching. A toss of the head loosened several strands of long mane around a single ivory horn perched upon the forehead. She waited. A unicorn must always be patient.
She flared her nostrils at the smell of wood burning beneath a nearby cauldron. The warm glow from the fire illuminated a few bare tables. She could even make out a corner shelf displaying a number of multicolored bottles and vials. One such had overturned. A constant drip suggested a liquid had been inside.
It was not long before the scent of human mingled with burnt logs, and she craned her neck to peer over her shoulder at a winding stairca
Time Keeper - Chapter 1Thunder shook the many shelves surrounding the workshop table, many of which were cluttered with woodworking tools and newspaper clippings. A preserved bird skeleton jittered on a high shelf and threatened to collapse. Flasks and bottles clinked together.
Tucked into the nest of his collectables, a man sat hunched over the small wooden table. The commotion was but a fragment of disgrace to his tedious work. A turn of a screwdriver; a tap of hammer; he laid out his tools and paused just a moment to adjust his spectacles beneath hushpuppy eyebrows, then turned his creation over to test its clockwork interior. A tap of his finger started the pendulum's swing. Gears caught and held, turning each other to rotate black hands upon a porcelain face. That was when he started counting, or at least heard the numbers calculating in the back of his mind; counting down from thirty seconds.
In the realm of the unconscious, time meant very little. Thus was the state of mind every sinking moment until
The Sea King and the Firebird
To dance upon waves is a wondrous thing,
When fire meets water to entice the Sea King.
They'll dance the night away until daybreak does spy,
And washes of color fades away with the tide.
The Swamp - SnippetTHE SWAMP
Wisdom glanced down, bushy white eyebrows leveling over a dull reflection of his surroundings in those once cheerful eyes. In the knee-deep muck of Mirkwood Swamp, it was not hard to guess his present mood, nor the warning of failing magic as he lifted his gaze to his other two companions.
"You might have warned me a little sooner before wading out in a swamp. And might I add, a cursed swamp!"
Ashpin studied the prince's expression. There was not much that worried the Healer. Nature supplied all the energy needed for shifting and other abilities. Yet even with all that, there was a hint of uncertainly in those pale features.
Their guide, however, merely shrugged.
"I've traveled through here countless times. Mirkwood Swamp has its fair share of rumors, just as Ettotu's Glade or Dragon Ridge." He gestured to the prince. "I wouldn't worry much. 'Specially not you, being One with the land, so I've heard."
Wisdom shook his head as the thre
SOUL-SHIFTER - Chapter 2SOUL-SHIFTER
© 2009 BONNIE WATSON
I didnt need to look to see whose quick steps entered the control room. The click of scanner confirmed no weapons before buzzing her through the double sliding doors. Even before she was granted access I knew she was angry. The rest of the guys just stared at their monitors while I had a mind to get ready for yet another tantrum.
Again? That was probably the wrong greeting, but by this time I was prepared to retaliate with some new information brought in by one of our hackers.
A picture of a young girls death scene was tossed upon the stainless steel counter. The stark white backing reflected over the surface that drew a few questioning stares.
She was only fifteen, came a sharp reply. Can you believe that bastard had the audacity to call after it happened and explained why he infected her?
I shook my head.
Come on, Marisa. Youre the specialist on the sub
SOUL-SHIFTER - Chapter 1SOUL-SHIFTER
©2009 Bonnie Watson
The memory was as clear to me now as though it had just happened. Smoke wafted under the basement door while my mother continued to fix dinner. It wasnt the first time, so she was used to it or so her thoughts told me.
Being only a year old at that time, everything fascinated me, to the plain white tablecloth on the kitchen table to the smoke wafting under the door. On wobbly legs I ventured close and pressed my hands against its wooden frame. Thats when my mother grabbed me.
Allen! she scolded in a warm tone just before the door opened.
What? My father halted on the other side, then cautiously peered around with a flask of liquid in one hand.
My mother just shook her head and returned to the stove with me tucked under one arm. She stirred the stew beginning to bubble.
You should be more careful, She pointed at him with her spoon. Hes learning to wa
I hate the way you smile
The way you wear your hair
I hate how you know I'd drop it all
If you said you care
I hate how you massacre my thoughts
And run rampant through my brain
Destroy the monotony my life blocks
and drum the rhythm of the rain
I hate how you spoke to me
And said you love me with those eyes
I hate how I knew it'd hurt
and hated more when I saw you cry
I hate how our shot was so short
Lasting only through the fall
I hate how I can't stop thinking of you
Because I could never hate you at all
before she met you, she would reach for the sun while standing on the branches of trees, arms stretched towards the sunlight, reaching and waiting.
now, happiness is like a summer memory in the dead of winter - still there, but fading too fast to hold onto. now, she sits on rooftops with you at night, and the two of you watch as the city lights go out one by one.
sometimes, when you laughed, she was reminded of the wind rushing through trees in winter - melodic and beautiful, but still cold, unforgiving.
the two of you watched the waves of the ocean take away the beach, piece by piece.
you were the waves.
she was the sand.
you'd stay up late and watch re-runs of old movies on tv, all the while wishing you had a road map to hope, because
maybe then you wouldn't feel so lost. you looked at the stars and saw happiness and wondered why you couldn't be up there, and all the time
you were missing the present.
she wished she was a volcano, and maybe then she'd explode a
Sunday in the Kitchendear mother,
i ask you how far we are from heaven.
hunched over the sunday paper like a patient gargoyle.
your eyes blinking too often, and tongue snaking
around in your mouth, as if the answer is hidden between your teeth.
you hum holy bars in the kitchenette.
say "hallelujah means praise yahweh, praise the lord"
say "angels must rest on the tongue of that word"
say "angels, oh angels hallelujah, hallelujah, rest in me"
but you haven't slept in weeks.
i hear you sob sigh into the night like a prayer.
like your table lamp is the closest thing to heaven-gates.
sometimes i still wish i could pray with you.
pluck off our sorrow feathers and
watch the angels carry them through the ceiling.
hold your hand like a steady branch
and breathe free.
but i know i'd either start laughing, or crying.
and both are told to be inappropriate during prayer.
what rests upon your tongue, but the paste of morning?
the old words, of dead men. the wet remains of one thou
tragedies - collab.you deserve all the cobweb dreams,
fairytale hopes, and explosive love
in the world, but i know that i
will never be the one
to give them to you.
you need notes that end with
'ps - you're brighter than
twenty-seven silver stars'.
i can't bring myself
to write them, though.
it's not like you'd read them,
i cut out paper hearts and
dreams and gave them to you, but
you only ripped them up and said
'these aren't good enough.'
when i painted you a picture
of golden skies and sunshine smiles,
you handed it back and told me
'next time, paint realistically.'
so i wrote you a story
filled of starless nights and
hopeless dreams. you said 'no,
i don't need this. you're
tragedy enough for me.'
by the time i was humming you
melancholy lullabies through the receiver,
you had already surrendered
to the sweet grasps of sleep.
'i'd rather nightmares than you,'
you said, hanging up the phone.
i kept singing anyway, hoping
that you would stop running
long enough for me to catch up.
but i forgot -
OC information templateName:
heart song.this is the song
to your heart.
why are you locked inside
a bathroom stall? no one
to hold you, tell you sweet
lies and say you are
beautiful, say you are
perfect? it's not the end of
the world, not yet. if it was,
wouldn't there be
your heart is not yet
dead; please do not
say it is. if it was dead,
it wouldn't hurt this
your heart is only sleeping.
when the only melody in your head
is a break up song, and the only thing
your heart seems capable of doing
is twisting itself into knots, and the only
thing you want to do is hide and escape
we are talking about finding
eternity in the things people
throw away. we are talking about
listening to the moments of silence
in between heart beats. we are talking
about distances shortening and
people realizing they can
we are talking about
one of the greatest tragedies
in life is that
...Maybe I'm naive because there are certain things I don't understand
Like why we care about people who don't know us
Or why we love people who don't want us
Or why we get angry over things that don't concern us
Maybe I'm cold and bitter because there are certain places I can't go
Or people I can't see
Or songs I can't listen to anymore because they remind me of things I hate
And as much as I try to understand them, I can't
Maybe we're all different brands of crazy
Certain brands like hurting the body
Certain brands go for the mind
Me, I go for the heart because I'm a different brand than everybody else
Or maybe I've just lost it
Because I hate seeing liars
And people who use people
Get everything they want
While the rest of us sit back and remember what we've lost
Someone asked me what is love
is it good, is it bad
is it awesome, is it terrible
I honestly didnt know how to answer them.
I finally desided love is the most complicated of all emotions
Love is kind
love is harsh
love is wonderful
love is terrible
love is a cure
love is a sickness
love is LOVE
love is hate
love is meaningful
love is pointless
love shows the best in people
love shows the worse in people
love makes us speak truth
love makes us lie
love understands everything
love confuses everyone
love builds your life
love tears your heart down
love makes you smile
love makes you cry
love makes us cuddle
love makes us hit
love makes the world go round
love makes the world go crashing down
love makes things simple
love makes things impossible
love is always worth it
love is never worth it
love makes us smarter
love makes us stupid
love is enlightening!
love is BLIND
make love not war
make war out of love
love is peaceful
love creates fights
love is sooth