The Message and the Flesh. by VedetteKerrie, literature
Literature
The Message and the Flesh.
The tower pierced the top of the sky, having thrust its way through the clouds like a sword through the skin of the earth, and smoke that blocked the sun hugged the dark spires that jutted out from the walls like splinters, digging their way far beneath to find the secrets of space. Even the tallest of these gray, soot-darkened walls could not turn the idle eye from the blades silent, disruptive tyranny, and soon all things would be as black as the pool from which they originated, disintegrating rapidly into the dust to acknowledge their own lack of uniqueness, and rising, finally, toward the smoke.
These things the mes
A girl named Jenna Connili once told me that she had never seen Eden, but had, at one time, spoken to Eve. I had laughed, and she had smiled a smile so terribly warm that I continued laughing, out of the sheer enjoyment of doing so.
The woman, Jenna Connili, as I knew her, was always full of these insightful, puzzling witticisms. She had nervous hands with fingers that constantly twiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves, the nails roughly bitten away. She had short, messy hair that never curled correctly on one side, and lips that rarely saw and sought care, often scabbed and chapped. And she had dreams of cats, thoughts of snow fall in summer
December on the Highway by VedetteKerrie, literature
Literature
December on the Highway
Dying slowly wasn't part of the plan. He remembered that from so long ago. Did he ever really have a plan, or did he trick himself into thinking that his life had kind of meaning?
He'd had a pack of cigarettes in his bag from who knows how long ago. They had probably been stashed in there since before he'd met the old man and started work at the motel, but he couldn't remember how he'd gotten them, or what he brought them for. He didn't smoke.
Long ago, they had probably been meant to signify something important, a promise or a feeling he didn't ever want to forget. But symbols don't really mean much of anything when they're stuffed into yo
Homer, Destiny, God and Love. by VedetteKerrie, literature
Literature
Homer, Destiny, God and Love.
There are things that can withstand the test of time; sea turtles, healthy bodies, brass instruments, sofas with life-time guarantees. There are trees, which can live for hundreds of years or more with the right kind of weather and books whose memories stretch on, even after their pages, filled with wisdom and knowledge, have been buried and lost to the tide of their time. Though the music of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven fade from the airwaves, from the shelves of local music stores and from the minds of future generations, as long as one soul remembers their beauty, remembers how they once triumphed over all sounds, how they once captured t
Current Residence: New Mexico, America, The World, The Universe Favourite genre of music: All kinds MP3 player of choice: iPod Favourite cartoon character: Foghorn Leghorn
Hello! My first journal entry, HORAY!
Onto the awesome. TheDastardly and myself are co-doing a webcomic together. And you know what happens when you put funny and funny together.
There will be bananna hamocks everywhere.
Brief description::
A woman stumbles upon a ribbon and releases a monster commonly known as the Big, Bad Wolf. Now Emily Richards must deal with the consequences of her actions and become the new Ribbon Keeper.
CHECK IT OUT! @
http://www.drunkduck.com/The_Ribbon_Keeper/index.php?p=286087