[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
[Random Drabble] Knife Fight.Knife Fight,
“Get ‘im Get ‘im”
A beer-can tossed rudely away into the thick mud. A spectating squirrel, running away in terror from the silver brick that was discarded at it. An arena coated by heavy forestry. The sounds of drunken chants, dances around a bright fire. Where the white heat purifies the spilled blood that coated the ground. A deadly dance as the sparks fly up into the great black sky. This was the scene late at night and blessed by a bitter wind. Here arguments where settled, where anger was let loose. Here even the quiet and aloof od people would release there other one. The stars flared and laughed and the moon chanted them on. A small sanctuary for insane, where nothing but emotions would, run rampant and morals where miles away hidden in fear. Fuelled by alcohol and C17H21NO4, the combatants would dance around the fire, a delicate mix of life and death .The idea was true and honest, you shall not kill, you shall only harm. A girl sat up in a t