-no title2-A traveling salesman, he is dressed in a brown trench-coat dark blue, red pinstripe underwear shiny brown shoes black socks with white markings pale brown trousers white t-shirt pale blue shirt with a breast pocket and clear buttons only they have tiny swirls of white in them, a white string attaches them, the needle must have traveled so many circles in and out. Each round making the button safer and stabler. Not unlike the salesman.-no title2-
Notice his face? can you see it? his face is cut by shadows hard shadows hollow out his face. I wonder if he has wrinkles? He
Grey mattersan old room, filled with nothing but a sourceless, dim, light and her, her knitting in the dark and grey matters only slightly illuminated by her absence she hasn't seen what she had wanted and she hasn't heard what she needs, her baby has been bought and sold and given a new home it has no need for her anymore.Grey matters
there are shiny buttons lying on the floor, spread wide, spread like the stars in the sky only not of star material grey matters wafting through a crowded room, they mix with cigarette smoke and whirl in the upwind of candle-lights.
ashprints dotted around the floor, the small prints a
scriptures to a dead nation"I can't wait to get out of here" There was an urgency in his voice as each word fell over the other in their daring escape. There was a genocide in her mouth and it cried for vengeance.scriptures to a dead nation
Their solace would not be found.
I never used to pride myself in my use of key-holes but there I was still panting heavily as I witnessed a rainbow of sounds and textures. A long thin white cloth hung from the ceiling held a noose and inside it was a brush. A brush I had used the previous day, it was a helping hand for me and the white picket fence had no holes. A picturesque statue, the famed cat-woman on the
Golden.It was a huge forest that she had been walking through. A long path made out of golden bricks.Golden.
The gold was the same kind of gold as his eyes, its eyes, her eyes, their eyes, our eyes, his eyes. On her way she met a fair few of characters, Webster's creations. She wanted to find Home again. There were no trees and she had never been mellow. The coloured girls never used to sing so high. She climbed onto the topmost branch and started to bellow. Her voice flew far above the towers.
"Have I ever been here?" She wondered as the colours spewed from her ears. The answer didn't come so much as it misted t
Gallery exhibit for charity.
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Take a look [link] it won't hurt you. When you have nothing, you fight to get something
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For the Prophecy said that one day, rubber devil duckies would rule the Earth...
Custom Harry Potter journals for SALE- [link]
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Take a look [link] it won't hurt you. When you have nothing, you fight to get something
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Scryc's photo gallery --> [link]
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