Filed under: a poem? kind of.
i tried to see how many gb your iPod was, but you plastered the back with stickers of you and your boyfriend.
Filed under: a poem? kind of.
on the bathroom walls,
drawings and comments fill the spaces,
until a fresh coat of paint is applied,
and we all start again.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
The sound of the restaurant echoed around him. In one hand, he held a half empty wine glass. In the other, a pencil scribbled furiously in a tiny notebook. He paused and took a sip from the wine glass. The wall was painted red, and the room was warm. Chatter filled the air.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
The parade carried on past the darkened alleyway. The twirling, bright colours, cheers and waving didn’t notice the small, bedraggled body lying in the dirt. Her eyelid twitched, and she lay still.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
The grey street didn’t change as he walked along the footpath. The bland oppressing houses loomed over the twisted front gardens, forever blocking them from sunlight.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
Trees swayed in the breeze. The tall pines reached all the way to the sky. A soft bed of pine needles covered the ground. They made no sound as she walked through the forest, barefoot.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
The lines on the road shot by as the car sped along. His hand tapped the side of the door in time with the music. The road was empty except for them. It stretched on, forever and ever, continuing into the blinding sunset.
Filed under: completely unconnected descriptions
The wind ruffled her hair as she stood on the edge of the water. Her toes dipped into the sea, and the sand moved under the gentle force of the water.
