Image 003

Jun 07, 2007 12:22

Okay, here's a new image for you all (presuming my counting was accurate on the previous image). Sorry, it's a hard one (I think)...


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Comments 10

bluwyngz June 8 2007, 17:46:33 UTC
Patrice kicked the side of the ancient hunk of metal and then sighed, turning to face me ( ... )

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bluwyngz June 8 2007, 17:47:14 UTC
Darn. Did it again. 195. Sorry.

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pyoor_excuse June 15 2007, 20:57:58 UTC
Okay, this really isn't very good, but it's the best version I've come up with ( ... )

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pyoor_excuse June 15 2007, 21:30:26 UTC
Apologies for the grammar - having re-read it, even in my tired state I can see what a pig's ear I've made of the grammar. Just put the commas, full stops and semi-colons in where they belong... :-)

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anonymous June 28 2007, 20:16:49 UTC
Everything speaks to me. Not in a scary 'voices in my head' way, but in a pleasant background burble of the souls of the objects. Of machines, of houses, each telling the secrets of their past.

Each crack, mark, streak, or bubbling particle of rust giving more depth to that story. Sometimes they cry, the pain of decades of neglect making me feel for them; and sometimes they sing, the great lives they've seen; but sometimes they just sit quiet.

Contemplating an end, often ignominious and alone as rust destroys them, nature reclaims them or neglect leaves them to be forgotten...

102 Words.

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pyoor_excuse June 28 2007, 20:18:50 UTC
uh, that was me, btw.

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pyoor_excuse July 8 2007, 21:20:36 UTC
183 Words. Again due to the lateness of the hour, somewhat lax on the spelling and grammar check ( ... )

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bluwyngz July 10 2007, 14:32:01 UTC
That was lovely. I enjoyed not figuring out Josh was a spider until after a couple paragraphs. ( :

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pyoor_excuse July 10 2007, 15:25:24 UTC
Heee. *grins*.

Yeah, that was the plan :-)

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The Speed of Attack jordax July 11 2007, 00:27:50 UTC
The first machine, when the colonists found it, was a mystery. Despite a layer of rust, no-one recalled its arrival. No-one could lift it, so firmly was it bedded into the ground. But more, no-one could sever the pipes that reached from the machine and wove into the building. Each cut had only temporary effect; the next morning the pipes were renewed, as if grown back overnight ( ... )

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