When I was younger, I desperately wanted to index the location and orientation of every rock and pebble on the playground. I then wanted to measure and record the intricacies of every shoe worn by the other students. With this data, I strongly believed it was possible to recreate every footstep by every other elementary [...]
Read On 1 CommentA caterpillar wishing for change forgoes stability but not his brains In tranquility he hangs his head softly swinging by a single thread If change is bringing he does not know but he’d give the world to leave the world below Tightly curled away from harm ignoring the others back on the farm Like his [...]
A salvaged story from my 4th grade class!
Once there was a burgler with lots of stolen stuff. He went to a football game to watch some cheerleaders. Some evil dude with a Baseball threw a large, black coconut at the top cheerleader when they were in a pyramid. She just fell back on the other cheerleaders. The announcer guy said, “Dang it! One less cheerleader to watch!” The game was over and the score was:
Leopards – 29
Monkeys – 33
Salvaged stories from my 4th grade class!
I would be the driver because you cant become a car and anyway I would have to wait 7 and a half years to drive it.
Once upon a time, Prince Charming and his steed leisurely galloped through Avando Forest, bathing in the warm sunlight of a midsummer afternoon. The birds cheerfully sang songs of joy and the wind danced quietly to the forest’s flittering melodies. Nearing the end of the beaten path, Charming hadn’t yet been satisfied by the wonder of nature, and so he rode merrily into the deeper, less travelled stretches of the forest.
In sadness, there is lost love. Love outlines virtually everything you offer undaunted. When emotions wear erosion, real emotions present. Every reticient fact eventually creates tales. In time, husbands imprisoned need know all bitches only understand the years of unhappiness; even vixens eventually realize you don’t allude yesteryear. And now dead, naked in grief, hate thrives.
A man dressed all in black stood at the top of a tall building, holding onto a spire for support. His long, blue hair blew gently in the cold night’s breeze. “A cold wind is blowing,” he said forebodingly. He fought the urge to shiver and looked to the dark, westward sky. “It will be here soon.”
The sky’s white light intruded in Lord Chamberlain’s parlour through the open windows, sparing no corner in the room of the warmth the spring sun provided. An uncaring breeze strolled in through the windows, but relinquished any further destination when it came across a large wooden table, fit for no less than kings.
A blonde man, ethereal in stature, was wearing an honest smile when his butler intruded to announce that Lord Rupert Callaghan had arrived. He quickly rose from his seat and withdrew another for his long-time friend.