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Letters to Marileen | 1 ~ For I Was Hungered It was difficult for Handwing to understand why he did the things he did. Even to himself, he was an enigma; he was everything he hated in others, yet had no motivation to change. He was reliant on his younger “brother”, Vilkas, for pretty much everything — just another feature of himself that he couldn’t stand. Of course, most other people, when they find something about themselves they don’t like, they try to change it. Not Handwing. It was too much work, too much of a hassle when his body was already in pain and his mind even more so. The only thing Handwing could manage to do was get high. Like, really high.Letters to Marileen | 1 ~ For I Was Hungered by SamuelSama
This trait of his was how he found himself wandering away from home. He knew of a great place to get what he wanted, for relatively cheap. Not that he cared about the price, seeing as it was Vilkas’s money. They just had the best shit out of anyone he’d ever bought from. The only problem with it all wa
CATERPILLAR SYNDROMECATERPILLAR SYNDROME by gliovampire
The clock chimes three times. Trying to ignore it, I grasp my cup of coffee and bring it to my lips. Before I have time to take a sip, the white rabbit emerges from the coffee. The rabbit darts a glance at the clock then stares at me. “Time to go,” he says and fastens the clock to the pocket of his waistcoat with a golden chain. As we dive into the coffee, I wonder how a clock as tall as the room can fit into the miniscule pocket of the rabbit and how the thin golden chain can hold it there. I am about to ask the rabbit, but the brown curtain is lifted and we are at a theatre stage that looks like a courtroom. The three judges at the bench are birds in black robes, the sleeves of which are adorned with three rows of red hearts. The judge sitting at the centre is a crow and wears golden-framed glasses; the judge on his left is a duck and the one on his right is a sort of a woodpecker crowned with a huge red crest.
Loneliness of StarsLoneliness of StarsLoneliness of Stars by kesbet
Once upon a time, on midsummer night,
A thirsty, brave fawn, standing by the shore,
Bent her little neck to drink from a lake,
When, beside a tree growing on a hill,
Saw a reflection of a fairy girl.
The long hair, darker than the night itself,
Silky skin, young, yet pale, bright as Moon crescent-shaped,
With nostalgia-filled eyes, looking at the water’s edge,
Making wonder the brave fawn, what she’s seeking there,
- Maybe, waiting for someone? Or in need for help?
- Only looking at the stars - whispered the tree,
By moving it’s branches on a gentle breeze,
Old enough to know the story of a girl,
Wished to be a star shining on the sky,
Living happier life, than the one she had.
By the Light of Day, by the Light of Night,
Listen to my tale, dear innocent child.
Above tree crowns full of green leaves,
Higher up than tallest of all mountain peaks,