It's the smallest things.

The twist of a shoulder, the turn of a head, the flash of a carved profile, the fluttering of thin fingers, the jagged and uneven steps.

I don't sketch anymore because these small things are burned into the base of my spine, at the very back of my neck - the third vertebrate.

I don't need to, I don't sketch anymore ( Read more... )

[Transferred from another source]

My life is upside-down again.
Or is it right side-up?

I talked. Fel knows I needed it, and I talked, I listened, and then I talked some more. I keep thinking, trying to recall if I said enough. Or did I say to much? My mind is in too much turmoil to think clearly right now, but it is the emotions that I am trying ( Read more... )

      The gray-haired man lunged towards the seafloor once again, his lungs nearly rupturing with the effort. The hastily whipped out potion allowed him to breathe for about a minute longer than he normally would, but the one that now was hugging the seaweed did not have that luxury. Wilhiem's arms worked fast as he dove down again, his eyes fixed ( Read more... )