| startfires | prints the current page. | 001207 |
| ... | ||
| chanaka | not always......shit! a paper jam! | 001207 |
| ... | ||
| For sure! | my name on the dotted line and i will get neat prizes in exchange for my soul. | 001211 |
| ... | ||
| asdf | play | 031118 |
| ... | ||
| Forming Mind |
On my mind it stays. She held her spoon as a treasure. Small sips of pink yogurt and eyes that never left one-way streets. Her calfs lay crossed, her worn jeans warming the bench. Dirty feet, with no shoes but the hard sole that any passer-by may see. Her shirt came tightly around her middle and so loose above that it barely stayed on. Her hair was so well-kept though. So spotless and wavy, a touch-up on space and time. I smirked as I waited for nothing and she finished her yogurt. Tucking the container in her back jean pocket she skipped off down the side-walk towards everything. |
041213 |