Hand in My Pocket

based on the song "The One" by Brandon Heath

Desert Rose

“Our destruction, my sons. The city of the Thiff-steareya. It is forbidden. For it stands to wipe us off of the face of our home world.”

My great grandfather made it his life’s great mission to ingrain into our heads, the day our ancestors arrived. It did not matter if we were in bed, out in the fields, or if we were working on our sacred artifacts. And when the great Morea ‘Id spoke, everyone would stop and turn to him.

(This is just to test the waters of the subject...Please let me know if it interests you)

Post One: Ashley

I’d like to wind the clock back about three years.
Hell, three years, five months, two days, seven hours, four minutes, and forty-nine seconds. Yeah, that’s when everything went kaboom.

Yes, put your hands into the “okay” sign, then put them together and then flick them away from each other and make an explosion sound with your lips.

You now know the thought going through my skull when my fiancé left me. WE WERE TOGETHER for five years. FIVE.

What Happens Next?

I. Out of the Sunrise

I lived on the streets for six years of my life, by choice. I took four steps away from my single parent dwelling and never looked back.
Was it hard? Yes.
Did I do anything illegal? I would like to plead the fifth.
What made me come home?
It wasn’t that I came home, it was that I found a home, a few short moments before going over the edge.

She had dreamed of a ballroom with the silver sphere above causing a spectacular display of color along the wall. Everyone was dressed to play off the brilliance of that spectrum so that in the darkness they were an illuminated display of art. Even their faces, obscured by masks, sparkled in the low light. It was best to be hidden from sight, as her parents did not approve of her choice.

A Day Called Zero

It was a perfectly fine day.
My espresso was perfection: overly sugared with whip cream along the top.
The coffee kept me level-headed—zen in a cup. Nirvana. A way to get my mind to not think about the forty-five minute drive it took to get to work from the suburbs. I had no issues getting from my apartment to the local Starbucks and then onto the “they call it an interstate highway, but it’s a parking lot”, just like Joni Mitchell said.

(Written and created with help from Llalania Marble)

MOST OF ALL

WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD

Place in this World

There Goes the Neighborhood

The Love Crusade

QUEEN OF SORROW

For the Love of Him

FAZE

C’est la Vie

CLOSE TO YOU

I’m Holding on To Love