like goldy and bronzy
Now I'm working with words, I don't have time for my own.
Blackadder: Have you no idea what irony is?
Baldric: Yeah, it's like goldy and bronzy only it's made of iron.
Meeting a TigerThe three brigands stopped in a clearing by the river and began making a space for a fire, muttering to each other. “I don’t like this forest, it’s too dark,” growled one. “Nothing’s ever good enough for you, is it, Rig? What would you prefer, a fancy inn and a cot?” the taller of the three retorted. “When you’re on the run, you can’t afford to be fussy. Don’t worry”, his tone became sugary, “When we get to Bargara you’ll have all that loot to play with, remember?” The third was throwing branches together in the centre. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a voice from the darkness.Meeting a Tiger
A Man Called SavageHE WAS ONLY A BOY when he first arrived, kicking and yelling, on board The Vulture. He still knew his own name then. But he didn’t know what had caused the owner of the orphanage, a slimy merchant by the name of Grates, to sell the boy into slavery. Debt, profit, he did not know. Nor did he care. He would never forgive or forget the little rat-faced man. Grates had a facial tic, or habit; he blinked with his whole face. It was as if with every blink, he was trying to close his eyes as tightly as he could. And so when he opened them, he looked lost for a moment while his eyes refocussed. It made him look stupid and uncertaA Man Called Savage
Thoreau's RiverI go down to the river, without knowing why. There is no music here, no technology, no machinery. Only the occasional car idles by, the crunching of gravel under tyres louder than the motor. In the distance I hear a train tictac-ing and the hum of cars on the city streets. Here, the modern noise is only a murmur and is backgrounded by the talking of birds, the dancing of tree branches and the travels of waves. In the late afternoon I hear a cock crowing. He doesn’t even know what time it is. I envy him.Thoreau's River
the natural world moved by the summer breeze cares nothing for others
At the river again
Locks and Traps - Excerpt 2When Jimmi arrived at the workshop, he walked straight to the bench where he worked, grabbing a piece of dirty rag out of one of the bins as he went. It was still early and most of the other workers had not arrived. Jimmi waved cheerfully at old Jock, the only one already working at his station. Jock nodded and winked at the Halfling, then when his eyes returned to the wood he was planing, Jimmi wrapped his three new daggers in the cloth and placed the package at the bottom of his workbench’s toolbox. It looked like a dirty lump of something, unremarkable and ordinary. Only Jimmi knew the three daggers in that dirty cloth could buy thisLocks and Traps - Excerpt 2
I remember you from trainsThe next train to depart from Platform One will be the four-thirty-two, Flinders Street, stopping all stations to Flinders Street except East Richmond.I remember you from trains
...And right on time again, she shows up. Yellow t-shirt and denim skirt. Today, she’s wearing glasses that I haven’t seen her with before and they make her look like a librarian, especially combined with the long, deep, deep, brown hair. I don’t need to look her up and down like I have in the past. I have her memorised. After seeing her every Sunday at the same time for six weeks, I could almost convince myself that I know her. After all, I have seen a multitude of her moods. I know ho
Pain
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~FantasyWritersUnited
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~FantasyWritersUnited
Enjoy the cake!
-Kylie
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~Narikia
Cheers, though! This one's on me:
Put it on my tab (I don't really plan on paying it anyway!)
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.::.::.::.::.
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'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
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