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Her Young FriendA length of twine connects his small grey body to a young girls wrist.
She loves him.
As she walks, he trails on behind her, collecting an array of objects in his toes and fingers, so that she may add them to her special shoe box.
Everywhere she goes, she takes her grey friend; he's a loyal fella, always watching out for his best friend.
He loves her.
When she sleeps, her young guard stays awake, keeping her safe and comfortable; never once blinking his loving eyes.
At school, the bigger kids grab him, and cut his twine, separating him from his friend. She cries, but he always comes back; he always finds a way.
When she sits down and draws, her colourful pencils scribbling rainbows of colour across a blank page, her young fella watches her, and every now and then whispers ideas into her ear.
The artist and the friend; he's her fella.
DreamerThe darkness swooned over its child; one lonely boy sitting scared and frightened in the ever-darkening woods.
The darkness watched, and wrapped the boy up in its arms; its cold radiating through the very soul of the boy.
A wolf in the distance howled aloud, and the child shuddered. His breath turning to a white mist as it left his mouth and was entombed by the cold atmosphere.
He shivered. This place was unknown, it was dark and frightening and the darkness seemed to hug him like a mother does her baby.
The wind whispered a harsh terror, his nerves shaking like ice.
Rain clouds began to form above him; the very presence dropping the temperature further and further into the negatives.
Rain began to fall, dripping slowly at first, and gradually increasing into a down pour, but the boy was not phased, he just sat, shivered, and thought.
The boy did so much thinking, way too much for such a young mind. His thoughts often haunted him, and now more than ever, they created a worl
Where The Thunder RoarsAnd the storm clouds grow darker,
And the lightning grows brighter,
The thunder rolls deeper,
And my heart breaks.
Like a fire spitting burning embers,
You scar my skin,
But underneath my heart remains yours;
Tragic love story.
Like a hail storm throwing solid rocks,
You pierce my soul,
With your unending lies,
Like a raincloud drenching all below,
You flood me with your need,
To make do with what's at hand,
Instead of waiting,
To be with me
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More