Three, sayeth the man. Thrice. Is that so many? What be a civil brawl in Verona streets where a lesser man be pierced straight through at the price of a glance? My hand is unstained. So same for that Montague dog. My kinsmen and I have the right to be armed. And weapons have not a purpose of being if they are not drawn to defense ( Read more... )

Glad tidings and felicitations! Many spirits wander this day. I've become host to a few within the bottle but swear I not more than my feet and head can handle. Through snowy streets did I walk this day. Faces all did greet me with the ease of a blessed day.

Gifts! To my lovely cousin Juliet, unto thee I give a dress brought forth of a dozen score ( Read more... )

Happy is the man that finds his needs met. I no longer am forced to wear the garbs of days passed frequently. The act is best suited to the urchins of the street. Better for they who without homes house so many fleas that happily reap upon misery. Such a line of thought is this. Mark this day a pleasant one for I have new clothes and a new set of ( Read more... )

Guilt flows as richly as the very red rivers of our bodies. In streets, the humble stand awash in the blush of shame, dripping with outstretched arms so much like babes in hopes of being beheld and made clean. Why guilt? Why for? We live to die and thusly should live to ensure that  the cold touch of death does not approach so soon in the joyous ( Read more... )

[[audio]]

[Metal folds and glass breaks! An engine growls and finally whines to meet its end.]

ROMEO. Inflict what injuries you can by tools beyond your hand, whelp.

[One man's shout of anger is met up with the waves flowing over and off of the shore in a steady rhythm in the next few moments of quiet.]

Emerge, Romeo, to fall. Enough weeping and ( Read more... )