She's eight years old and playing in the west field. The sky overhead is iron gray, the sunlight falling dead and weighty on the rocks and grasses.

Except not really - she's eighteen. (possibly. or eighteen hundred. it's hard to tell sometimes and oh her head hurts with it) Her hair is a few shades darker, she has breasts, and her nails are talons ( Read more... )

At a traditional wake, the event occurs in the house of the deceased with the body present ( Read more... )

"Are you an only child? Write about your siblings or lack thereof."I had two brothers. They were both big boys, muscular and tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. Handsome ( Read more... )

"The past is never dead. It's not even past." William Faulkner, Requiem for a Nun.HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ( Read more... )

[With the always wonderful john_movinon. Takes place in the (possible) future!]

( I will show you fear in a handful of dust. )

[locked from Lorna ( Read more... )

Everyone is going to be very mad at me ( Read more... )

When the wax does not resolve itself into shapes, when the clouds refuse to form patterns, when there is no answer in the faces of cards or the insides of sparrows, there is only one other way to see the future.

( Somebody tell me about the rhythm of the 4th floor
(This is the image, this is the place)
Somebody tell me about the rhythm of the dance floor
(This is the way the world will end) )

The stupid Senator is a mutant?! But he no longer wishes to make us register our names, yes? Ever? If that is true... I am thinking I perhaps owe an apology ( Read more... )

I have scrapbooks. I feel it is important to preserve sequence of events ( Read more... )