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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
June 25, 2012
Creationism by =Tobaeus Because nobody's perfect.
Featured by BeccaJS
Suggested by TheSkaBoss
Literature Text
She took the clay into her hands and rolled it around. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could feel the imperfections in the little sphere, but she would never think to smooth them out. It was the little things that gave each of her creations character.
This particular ball gave way to spiky tips and deep depressions. She held it up and blew on it to speed its drying. When it was ready, she brought out the paints. The low parts became blue and fluid, and the spiky places turned gray. But she didn't stop there. The in between places were painted green and brown, and she came away a little and painted white puffy shapes. And then she waited.
For a long time, nothing happened. Then there was movement, but still she was disappointed. This one didn't glow the way some of her creations did. She moved in for a closer look at the globe. Perhaps she could figure out what had gone wrong.
What she found was a disaster. The skies rained bits of diamond and drops of acid. The seas had turned a poisonous shade of green. Disgusted, she pulled away from the globe and cast it away.
It comforted her that her latest creation made a graceful arc on its way to join the others. Even through her anger, she hoped it would find a comfortable orbit with a long-lived star. She shouldn't have been disappointed, really. So few of her creations ever sprouted life. All she could do was pick up another handful of clay and start again.
This particular ball gave way to spiky tips and deep depressions. She held it up and blew on it to speed its drying. When it was ready, she brought out the paints. The low parts became blue and fluid, and the spiky places turned gray. But she didn't stop there. The in between places were painted green and brown, and she came away a little and painted white puffy shapes. And then she waited.
For a long time, nothing happened. Then there was movement, but still she was disappointed. This one didn't glow the way some of her creations did. She moved in for a closer look at the globe. Perhaps she could figure out what had gone wrong.
What she found was a disaster. The skies rained bits of diamond and drops of acid. The seas had turned a poisonous shade of green. Disgusted, she pulled away from the globe and cast it away.
It comforted her that her latest creation made a graceful arc on its way to join the others. Even through her anger, she hoped it would find a comfortable orbit with a long-lived star. She shouldn't have been disappointed, really. So few of her creations ever sprouted life. All she could do was pick up another handful of clay and start again.
Literature
blasphemy
in a Heaven no grander than a forest, He sat upon a throne weaved of ivy and wild roses; it was there He first touched the Universe, and it was there He came to find the thriving rock He named earth. absent lives were flitting about in oceans deep and dark, and He sought to make company, entertainment, using His vast power to manipulate these beings' path. they grew until they resembled His intention, but before the first man thought of the savannah's cruelty or had any thought besides instinct, angels were birthed of the Lord's passing thoughts
He would breathe and exhale
lights that cuddled like sweet birds,
tucked close for warmth
Literature
Spelling Counts
The line read:
"Fallow your heart",
I wondered what more there was to say.
Fallow your heart, leave it
empty and waiting for a season
so love can grow, nourished,
in a replenished, whole ground.
Fallow your heart so it does not become
Worn and barren with overuse.
The line read "fallow your heart",
but the poem, overworked,
meant only "follow".
Please remember that spelling counts.
Literature
End of the World?
"End of the world?" Richard looked up from his newspaper. "Bollocks! The world will always be here. What you really mean is it's the end of humanity!"
Dumping the paper down on the curb next to him he got to his feet. "If the crazies with shotguns or the blasted zombies don't get us all, this waiting will! I say lets go out with a little style! What d'ya think, Mertle? Shotgun or chainsaw?"
Unfortunately for Richard, the voice he heard answer him was nothing beyond his own mind because Mertle was in fact, an old microwave sitting on the street, with a sm
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See? Even deities can't churn out perfection every time they create something. So why should we? Keep going, and that gem will turn up.
FFM day 24. Approx 266 words.
FFM day 24. Approx 266 words.
© 2011 - 2024 Tobaeus
Comments88
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This was really powerful, and only 266 words. It only goes to show you don't need a million words to craft something amazing. <3