The skeletal Komodo dragon lurched ever closer. Had Bill thought Death came in the form of a skeletal man, he'd be intrigued. As it was, Bill Endval would die, his psychological self would cease to exist, and his body would burn, then rot, in the ground somewhere dark and undiscovered. He'd had no plans to become any sort of celestial being, and now a lizard was telling him he was to be reincarnated as a reptile for being such a wonderful person.
"Unchain me and lemme disappear into nothingness you flippin scaly rat!"
Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2018 7:09 pm
III_of_Wands Day:31 Themes: Monochrome purple/ bee/no way out/lily 'cause of a bee
"An end, goodbye" The notion of 'goodbye' is only truly unbearable if only because the individual involved won't run into you later, or see you ever again.
Words can harm emotionally, bring us joy, enrapture us in culture, skills, talent, and enigma!
They can bring us to our lowest, raise us to our highest, leave us naked with our souls to bear, and force us to face or exceed a limitation we ourselves never thought we'd have to face.
Words bring us life, death, and everything in between.
But of all the words in the world that can do us physical and mental harms, it is "Goodbye". ... Goodbye goes beyond the physical, to the metaphysical, and the emotional. 'Goodbye' can trigger memories, beloved and loathed, to the forefront, to us. Goodbye is special and terrifying because you may end up facing your own demons while explaining to a small child what 'goodbye' stands for in a funeral procession, or at a crossroads of their discovery of a beloved pet. It is the four horsemen incarnate, capable of bring great joy or great destruction, and no band-aid will cover the scars, or the injury.
So do not leave this world with a "Goodbye". Leave those closest to you with a "good trip, good luck, or good travels", because leaving those individuals with a "Goodbye" could be an end you'll later regret.
III_of_Wands Day 37 THemes: beach/silence/ legs Beauty in all its' forms "The chair was comfortable, the sky was blue, and Barbara had the front row to the beach. Reclining in her chair, she was dozing in the stillness of the day when she was nudged; as she'd come alone, her first reaction was to be startled, but set with the knowledge that she'd not been accompanied, her second was to intimidate the fool who woke her up.
"The heck?! A WHOLE beach and you gotta bother me? I came here at this particular season to avoid civilization! What you want??!" came from her, alongside some choice words not often used around children, we hope. The poor son of a broad had the decency to skitter back a couple of feet and gave her the dark pleasure of lifting his hands in the air, two fingers clenched in a death grip with his white scarf.
Just barely audible, he whimpered, "I was just curious if it was wise for you to don a bathing suit in snow weather ma'am." She grinned, fire in her eyes. Sitting up, she tenderly rubbed one leg, as if to feel the frostbite; and then promptly snatched it from under the blanket covering her thighs and held it aloft over her head and smirked maliciously. "I'm fine, boy. Nothin' to worry your pretty little 'ead over."
The sound of him falling over and screaming were actually trumped by the view of his backside running for the hills in fright. "Coward." She stifled a giggle and put her second prosthetic back into position, resuming her nap.
" The monster under the bed" Barbara hadn't hesitated when her boyfriend of six months had offered to take her camping for the weekend. He'd supposedly had other lovers, but he never longed to tell her about them or their antics. She felt appreciated and adored, and loved him all the more for not comparing her to all those others.
Her girlfriends told her to start asking questions when he changed his phone password weekly, but she'd put it down to paranoia. Four hours later, after a wonderful scenic hike and and an unusually quiet trip to the cabin, she'd soon figured she aught to start questioning his motives. The canoe at the cabin, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, had been a dream. Uncertain of her relationship status, she'd soon figured exactly where they stood, as he 'accidentally' fell out of the canoe chasing after a oar that had 'accidentally' fallen out. There was a dull roar in the distance; she had one oar to her name, and her 'loving boyfriend' had fled with time to reach shore.
Reply
