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[3rd Ballad] Faith is Transient.Thursday morning.
Ice graced the entire building.
8:20am. Only the most dedicated few are here.
“Light the burners! Warm this cursed place up..” He threw his coat onto the chair, fluently moving about and witching the gas valve over and swiping the bottom of his computer. A routine learned and performed daily.
“I’m already there.” Matches lit, spread across the benches. Flicking each tap around with one hand and lighting each one with lighting precision and a certain feeling of anger,
Darkness still painted the entire sky. With the preparations done the girl in green and red laid down on the bench. Staring out of the window, watching the shapes of grey and the small rectangle of trees and foliage that was losing the war with the wind.. Muffled sounds leaked out and she crawled up surrounded by the cruel flames of the burners. Everything was still dark outside, still painted a dark navy blue where the sun struggled to get up ou of bed. Even being ginger, yo
[3rd Ballad] Pencil Crisis.“Pencil Crisis, the prologue of a new chapter.
I am going to be happy with you.
Of that there is no matter of doubt-
No probable, possible shadow of doubt-
No possible doubt whatsoever.””
“Do not call me your sister! You two are siblings…siblings in pure cowardice!”
She was almost shouting, the nervous eyes around her had calmed her voice. The room had been drawn to the drama and argument. A rare bit of emotion she would show from her usual batch of cold, bitter and sometimes aloof self.
“Both as bad! I trusted you. I wanted the truth about him! Not even for myself. For my damned writings.” A pencil still sat behind her ear, along with her movements the top clipped the light. She stormed out holding her sword umbrella at her. Sounds and snickers around. The handles and points at the end of the umbrella clip the light. Withdrawing it and smashed it down before storming away, a silent storm, but enough to leave a dent of silence. The warm
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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