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unrelated - gypsyjr427: nothing says "I love you, human foodbringer!" like a live rodent
It had to be the scene of some terrible assault. There was no blood - but then, sometimes there wasn’t. The chairs, though, had been slashed as though by knives, the carpet ripped and shredded, delicate ornaments lying smashed on the ground. It was utter chaos.
The lily, though, was the worst of it. The ceramic pot had shattered so that black ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
fireworks over the harbour
a photo in reverse; the glowsticks shining from below
the bursting colours above
in the backyards of the backwoods houses
laughing children set matches against cardboard tubes
hold their breath
until, silhouetted against the sky
the bright flash-flame
of a momentary star.
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(Untitled)
It’s a goddamn stupid death. That’s the problem.
It’s a goddamn fucking stupid, messed up death, and Dean thinks that’s why he can’t handle it. He could deal with it if Sam had died on a job, saving someone or maybe protecting someone from getting hurt. He could see that. He could imagine Sam getting his fool ass shot or being strangled in order ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Title: Non Sequitur
Rating: PG-13 for violence and language.
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean...I guess Sam/Dean if you've really got your slash goggles on, but it's not a slash story.
Notes: For ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
Title: full systems breakdown
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Love borders lust, and lust is not a mistress to be scorned. A slow, systematic destruction of something beautiful.
Notes: An experimental and mixed-media project cataloging the destruction of a relationship and one man's descent into madness. I wrote most of this between the hours of one and three ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
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She knew she was pregnant pretty much from the start - suspected, anyway, wasn't quite sure whose it was and tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about Rial's hands, clumsy on her skin and Ramon's accent slip-sliding around her teeth as he swore into her mouth the next morning. She didn't do anything cliché, didn't rest her hands on ( Read more... ) -
all your diamond tears will rise up and adorn the sky beside me when i go
He writes. The click-clacking typewriter chatters
in the still air. His office smells overpoweringly of potpourri,
sickly, like a fog in the air. The window remains unopened,
and I have never seen it open. I used to think it was welded shut.
He used to tell me that the wind would steal his ideas. My mother
used to shake her head and frown. He would ( Read more... )