|You know you want to learn.|
The Birth and Death of AngelsThere was a woman, all alone in her small house, giving birth to her first child. The neighbours must have heard her cries, but they did not go to help. Do not think the neighbours were evil, they weren't, they just thought someone else would help her. In a way, they were right, but she didn't know that.The Birth and Death of Angels by Rieal-Dragonsbane
She breathed in puffs and screams as she tried to push her daughter into this world. Even through the pain, she loved her daughter. But that wasn't enough. She needed help. Unknowingly, she gave birth to another. A son was born through those screams. He cried as his mother's love weaved and knotted until it formed his adolescent body - his flesh, bones and blood. Pain sprouted from his back and made his wings. They stayed stained with blood for the rest of his life.
His mother could not see him, but that did not matter. What mattered was the birth of his sister. Every fibre of his being wanted her to be born. When his mother's strength wavered, it was him that called her out.
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Saturday Spotlight for June 30th, 2012
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The Airplane CrashedYou are still alive. The most terrifying moment of your entire life just passed and you survived it. Your heart shakes in your chest. You let out a long breath to slow it down.The Airplane Crashed by Sirius-the-Dog
Your seat creaks as you shift your weight. You test your left arm. It feels sore and overworked but not tight like it was. No heart attack then. Something pinches together in your gut and your insides slosh around. You grit your teeth against the pain and test the rest of your body. Right arm works. Your neck is sore but you can turn your head. Legs don't seem to be functioning. In fact you can't feel them at all.
Somewhere behind you, amid the groaning and crying, a fire burns. You can feel the heat on the back of your skull. You lift your hand and touch your hair, which falls away in a powder. You remember the fireball that ripped up the aisle. You ducked down before it rolled over you.
The fat man who sat beside you wakes up and immediately begins to scream bloody terror. You try to tell him that
Painting NightsDear Emma,
The truth is I'm not a painter.
The truth is I followed you here from that flower shop on Whitmore Street, two and a half months ago. Please, keep reading.
You actually took my breath away when I glimpsed you holding a bunch of lilies in your slender hands at the flower shop counter. You stunned me. That's never happened to me before. I was watching you turning the bouquet left to right, you seemed in awe of the flowers' beauty. Your eyes, your perfect smile, the way you held yourself. It was not a conscious decision to follow you here. I think I was in a trance. I know how it looks; I know it sounds like a movie.
When Miss Vale said it was only the beginning of the painting course, lesson two, I signed up, paid my money on the spot, just to follow you into the room.
Just to keep seeing you. Just to be near you. I know it's crazy.
I stared at the back of your bobbed hair for that entire lesson. In my mind I was shouting for you to turn around
GrasshopperIn the sixth year of my life there was a neverending heat; mom told me
that weather like this is what people call an Indian summer
I asked her if that meant that we need to move into a tipi
but she just laughed and ruffled my hair
That summer dad took off the training wheels in my bicycle, he told me
that I have to learn to ride without them before school starts
I cried endlessly after falling and getting a scratch on my knee
but he kissed it better and ruffled my hair
The last night of the vacation we all went to the lake together, they told me
to be quiet, like a mouse, so that the fireflies may dance in peace
that small clearing was lit by both glowing and twinkling lights
and my parents held me tight and ruffled my hair
Another thing I remember is the constant chirping of that heat, someone told me
that it was the singing of a bug that was looking for a partner to be with
the whole summer I tried to find one, but they always escaped me
and while I run across the fields, the