Sta.sh
| Who or what follows you? |
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| Who or what follows you? |
| ... |
| Dare to believe? |
| Love me for what i was and what i can be, afraid not of what i will be or appear to be, beauty is priceless, just name the price. |
Short pieces in Response to Art
"You are travelling alone through a spooky forest,
When a dark wizard appears and gives you a magical potion.
What magnificent powers does this potion contain?" *identifyed-tehself
The potion glitters like flakes of the golden sun just before a burning sunset. You feel the weight of the small bottle in your hand, it feels lighter than it should be. You try to resist the urge to drink, the wizard hadn't seemed benign. The compulsion grew the longer you look, the bottle has no cork so you cannot put it down, but it seems almost sacrilege to tip this beautiful liquid out. You swirl the liquid gently, marvelling at the spiralling shards of sunlight. It slips down your throat, sweet and smooth, yet the bitterness which follows almost makes you cry. Your skin tingles and begins to glow with the deep gold of that sunset potion. It grows brighter and hotter, your clothes burst into flame. You feel you are about to burst into flame at any moment, but you don't. The
Blue Light Deals
The light glowed a faint dead blue, casting an unnatural pallor over his features. She wondered for a moment whether this had been a wise decision, but she could not say no now. Her heals clicked on the brushed metal, before being muffled by the thick blue-grey rug. He glanced up and motioned her towards the seat on the other side of the desk. She sat down gingerly and waited perched on the edge of her seat. He was reading something, tapping a pen against his front teeth in time to some internal rhythm. She tried to pick out a pattern in that tapping, but each time she thought she had found it it changed. She picked at her lip nervously until
:thumb283776567: :thumb287517027:
Ain't No Love on the StreetTonight again I walk my beat
Nothing seems to be a-changin'
There's no one fresh to meet
No new names for the exchangin'
Run down cars on the sidewalks
Trashcans spilled in the alley light
And there ain't no barks o' dogs
Just the rumblin' o' the city night
By the corner there's a young man
In his hands I see a bloody blade
I don't think he's got a game plan
But he thinks he's got it made
He looks at me and waves me over
Says, "Old man, you ain't seen a thing"
Then he cuffs me on the shoulder
And sends me off like he's the king
I walk away, all stunned and blue –
Wasn't like this in my summer's heat
But now just one t
Wow! 
. 
