You think about it sometimes, right? Just idly though, like after a film or answering one of those stupid internet questionnaires. In a fire, what would you save? Name three things; go on, I dare you. Youre in your bed and youre woken by the smell of smoke or the whine of your alarm, and you have five minutes to grab what you can and get out. Forget about things you need, in a practical sense, all those are covered by some magic. Pick the things that really mean something to you. Your laptop maybe, or that scrapbook your ex made for you (though, on second thought, you might let that burn in hell, the bitch), or maybe a photo album
Let the good times roll you hear yourself say as the die twin themselves on the glorious green of the Craps table. So you find yourself a nice casino, this quaint little place sitting in the warm early July twilight, and you figure that maybe you can make something of the solid ten that you have crumpled on the inside of your pocket. The bouncers give you the eye and let you in with a mocking grunt, and you slink inside with your hands deep in your pockets, head bowed low to avoid attention. Ten chips for the sweaty note in your sweaty hand and you move to the main floor, becoming distracted by the flashing lights and enticing beeps. Blackjac
When my hands had suitably warmed up I slipped the pen out my pocket and opened the first page, shifting position on the lumpy cushioned chair. The pen hovered over the paper for a few moments before I scribed in perfect cursive handwriting; The Life and Adventures of Jesse Sutherland, and after a pause, Esq. With a long flick of the pen I underlined it, curving the corners slightly to give it an elegant look. I laughed quietly to myself about how corny this was, but I turned to the second page and wrote (to the best of my memory);
It was a fine winter's day on the farm of Mr Sutherland, and he strolled the fields at great length surveying h
I feel cold. Is this to be expected? I don't remember anyone mentioning cold.
The light is shining on us, and the beads of perspiration on his forehead are reflecting little rainbows. Sorry, refracting little rainbows. His lips feel chapped against mine, and I can tell that he is smudging my lipstick. I looked beautiful. I wanted to look as nice as I could for The Incident, but I really did look beautiful. I wore my favourite dress and put on my nicest makeup – but not too thick now. Only sluts lay it on thick and I would hate to think that anyone would consider me looking sluttish.
There's light shining down on us. It's casting the sl
"I did it." The Butler said, sitting up straight in the hard, metal backed chair. His face was impassive, his sunken eyes staring at the inspector with all seriousness. The inspector looked him up and down; his black hair was slicked back and there was a streak of light grey going through it. His clothes were formal to suit the dinner party; a black suit with a white shirt and black bow-tie. The inspector notices a small splatter of blood against the shining white.
The scene was gruesome. Four dead bodies in total, all of them piled up in a small heap in the centre of the hallway. Police had arrived after the Butler had given them a call, an
The sun filtered through the wooden blinds and filled the room with a calm orange glow. A plump, bespectacled man swivelled in his chair as he scanned a booklet with a furrowed brow while on the other side of the desk another man stood tall, a grave and serious look on his face, watching the other man intently. He brought one of his hands out of the pocket of his suit trousers to scratch his chin, a noticeable red band of skin on the fourth finger.
"What do you think?"
"Hold your horses Dave, I'm almost done."
"You were almost done ten minutes ago."
The bespectacled man looked at David over the rim of his glasses a
When I say "I love you"
I wonder what I mean.
Because a simple I love you
Won't tell what you are to me.
How can three words express
Your role in my life.
All the things you bring,
words you say,
what you do.
Can I say "I love you?"
Will it tell you all?
If I say "I love you"
Does it speak my heart?
The path we're on together
I never want to leave it.
Walking day by day, whenever you're beside me,
Is more than I could ever dare to dream.
When I say, "I love you"
It can't be what I mean
three small words, "I love you,
Don't say what you are to me.
Even if I knew
every language there is,
If I spoke in poetry,
wrote a th
I received a notebook that is so very pretty (like I do every year, no complaints on my end though) but I don't know what to write in it so until then I'm going to keep money in it. It'll be like in those films, where the bad guy keeps a book full of seedy dealings and his money. Maybe I'll cut a hole in it and keep a gun in there! That would be interesting.
I also now have a camera again. Time for rubbish amateur photography? I THINK SO.
Oh hello! I did not see you there.
You rang the doorbell you say? Well I didn't hear it. Twice? Well I definitely didn't hear it. I was too busy cleaning things out. Yeah, it was quite hard work, but I think I got most of it. Yep. Yep. That too. Got rid of most of those. There're still a few left though. But don't you think it looks nicer? Don't you think my gallery looks a lot cleaner, a little more me?
Hmm. Yes, yes you're absolutely right. I need something new.