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Evening Walks with SolitudeI walked down a street at night, some winter past. My mind was waltzing over recent miseries and ones forecast for a thousand tomorrows, as young minds tend to do. The rains had been coming down on the city for weeks. The air was fresh, the world was wet, and an evening mist gently swept about me. I could hear distant cars and the laughter of happy people I would never know. Then I felt a moment when the sounds of the world drifted off to a distant place, and the people around me were like the skeletal remains of maple leaves on a December wind. I felt close to the ground, like I was sinking into the earth, and it was warmer and sEvening Walks with Solitude
by ~Beowulf11
A LegacyA Legacy In a butcher shop a young, orphaned, dirty, sparrow of a man named Samson sliced cutlets of veal on an oak table. The butcher himself, a fat, ugly, generous work-horse with three or four dozen grandchildren, was looking over some accounts. Precious blood dribbled into buckets set alongside the table. White plaster walls imprisoned the two men with the smell of their visceral lifestyle. A twig covered in pink blossoms grew in through a tiny window on the south wall. Samson hummed a ballad and stretched his shoulders in the gray winter light streaming in from the window. A raven alighted on the window ledge, alA Legacy
by ~Beowulf11
Landes' Irregulars Part 1I.Landes' Irregulars Part 1
Recently fired, the MkIII standard issue melta radiated a gentle heat from its cooling vents. Gudrun placed its vented muzzle gently between her breasts, and leaned against its warmth. The tiny space of air beneath her survival blanket warmed quickly, and everything but her overlong feet and high forehead was comfortable. The open air around her was the still with the emptiness of a newly christened battlefield. The tents had burned with most of the supplies when the Khornates hit their rear. Gudrun had dove in with the rest of the specialist squads, and anyone nearby who had the firepower to pierce the daemonic wa
by ~Beowulf11
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: In Portland with me mum
- Interests: History, Weightlifting, Cheeses, Writing, Music
- Favourite movie: Into the Wild
- Favourite band or musician: Tom Fucking Waits
- Favourite genre of music: All things acoustic and awesome
- Favourite artist: My man mr. JaggedJ, 'cause I don't really know artists, but I know he's good
- Favourite poet or writer: My long deceased man Mr Tolkien
- Favourite style of art: Long-form Epic of gigantic pretention and ambition
- Favourite game: FF Tactics, the unsurpassed godfather of tactical RPGs
- Favourite gaming platform: All I use is PC, at the moment.
- Personal Quote: "Sorrow's as thin as an electric mandolin, and the moon's as round as a banjo"
- Tools of the Trade: ackwardly small laptop keyboard, occasionally a pen
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There ain't no straight lines in the state of things.
I love my work with Chris Chedgzoy hehehe more to come!!
xx shelly
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A stupid man's report of what a clever man says is never accurate because he unconsciously translates what he hears into something he can understand.
-- Bertrand Russell
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