‘A cloaked wanderer of forgotten lands’ - Mythology, hikes and unfurling the sail - I’m a right weirdo, sit on my roof to watch the sun go down and to think, spend most of my time breaking horses in and wrote way too much here.
‘A cloaked wanderer of forgotten lands’ - Mythology, hikes and unfurling the sail - I’m a right weirdo, sit on my roof to watch the sun go down and to think, spend most of my time breaking horses in and wrote way too much here.
Well layered and believable. When he is first met he comes across as violent and cruel but as you get to know his past and the origination of his anger then you realise he is struggling to cope with his losses and his youth. Once you understand him a bit further on he seems stronger and braver. A wee bit exaggerated at times and has a tendency to overreact....
The muffled voices, silent screaming the undertone to it all. Invisible hands reach up from the ground. Invisible tears and blood form an invisible sea that closes in above my head. Smiles invoke a dark, unbridled fury. A Titan shifts behind me, plucking away the good and peeling back my invisble mask. My silent begging as my life pours through the cracks is unheeded. What people see is someone wh...
He looks into my eyes, piercing my soul. His hands brush my hair from my face, sweeping the fear from my unspoken words.
He’d say he was sorry, he’d emphasise, but he knows it won’t change anything, so he just holds my face in his two hands, gazing at me sadly.
A tear rolls down his face, and he leans in and kisses me, emptying me of my pain and sadness with a beautiful, delicate moment,
I don’...
The rain clatters against the window, it’s queer paths and hollow tapping mimicking the chaos of the near-empty café. My coffee steaming the same as my breath on the glass.
Little Jane, who’s been running this place since 72, as she so proudly declares every other day, is being run of her feet by it as customer after customer comes up to the counter. The locals watch the bustling tourists with na...
The way you organise your desk, your outfit, gestures, expressions, word choices, grammar, car, house, even the way you tie your laces, it’s all a mirror to your mind, and I use that, I use it to learn your darkest secrets, but I don’t use them. I like to think of it as omniscience, I know everything about everyone I know, but I do use it for bad, or for good, I just have it, my own private displa...
I stand at the doorway, gazing in. I see the window reflecting like a mirror in the darkness of the night, and it scares me. I don’t have mirrors for a reason, I’m scared of them without one.
I dodge the bed and draw the duck egg curtains, the collapse upon the ‘bed’. It’s neatly made despite having no sheets, just two old, hokey woollen blankets and a horse rug that’s even older, despite not hav...
I’m scared of it, but crave it at the same time, that surge of power as you take hold of it, that immense power that only God’s should possess, not mere mortals, that power scares me whilst being the only thing one could possible desire.
My common sense makes me want to lock it away in an underwater prison, my daring side loves it. The side of me that was addicted to other things now craves it, t...
His words are tender as he explains his situation in a way no-one had before, Alexander going from villain to somewhat sympathisable, but not quite.
I stare at him, my eyes burning up, willing to scorch the earth he stands on, but he has the trump card, my mother, and so I can’t, I stay with my head bowed as he explains again, gentle, as though his past is my present, but then again, as though hi...
Gabriel looks up at the sky, the sun high at midday, and he mutters quietly, ‘Do you think the sun gets lonely up there?’, but no-one hears, he’s all alone.
He’s sat in the shade of a large oak, in a large empty field, in what seems like an empty world, and he’s sympathising with the sun.
He’s bruised, both literally and metaphorically, he’s too young to understand, and he’s sympathising with t...