A poem for you.

Oh how people wish.
Oh how I wish I could sit here forever, cross legged in ‘The Computer Chair’ and write all day.
Oh how I wish inspiration would be my constant companion and friend
To keep me motivated instead of lazy and dumb
Sitting in this chair
Twiddling my thumbs
Wondering what to do next with the precious time I have left
Should I go on the internet and waste the hours
Or should I try and crank out a story about girl in a field and some flowers?
Oh how people wish
And plan to have a dream life
Without any strife
But what would life be
Without those, “No that can’t be”s
Without those hard things that help mold and form us
To be who we must be
Oh how people wish
But those things we wish for are seldom ever granted
So for the time being, make your own moves in life
Until fate decides you’re ready
To take on your dreams and live life to the fullest…
dh

Complete. Makeover.

Dear readers,
I wanted to let you all know i'm re-formatting and re-designing my blog to freshen it up a bit and to look at it with new eyes and new inspiration! hope you'll all stick around for it!
dh

I'm Sorry...

Dear Readers,
So summer is almost over (ouch that hurt) and i'm JUST getting in my beach trip in August! Our days consisted of: after about an hour awake we headed down to catch the rays and brown up, warm and freezing waves, boogie-boards, SAND! walking about a block and crossing the boardwalk on the way to the beach, checking tan lines while washing the sand off of our bodies, watching daily TV (we were so unhealthy last week), evening walks on the boardwalk and coming back on the beach, baking and cooking special food, ice cream every night! second cousins, third cousins, a lot of people i don't know but they are magically related to me! and lots of other strange and fun things :)
Some All of that was out of order but there's the main components of my beach week. Crazily enough, after only three very busy days home, we're leaving again to enjoy a week of sports, discussion time, team colors, friends and horrible food at our church's annual Youth Camp. AND THEN sometime after that, we're going to my first cousins house to spend even more time with our relatives! Ooh this is gonna be one hectic end of a summer!
Post soon,
dh

The Return of the... Girl :)

Dear Readers,
If you're wondering why I posted this so early is because I've got pretty bad jetlag after flying all over the world! No, really, I just visited the continent of Africa for something like 36 DAYS! We got to pass through England twice which was fun both times and when we got to Philadelphia airport i realized how funny the american accent is :)
I would post pics of the whole long journey instead of making you guys read a boring wordy post, but I still have no idea how that whole thing works!
It's amazing to be back where the toilet flushes unquestionably every time you use it, you can eat a plate full of salad and not regret it for the rest of the week, the air (even if it's humid) doesn't smell faintly of garbage and best of all: you can sleep in your own bed and you will never have to check out of again! Unless you're on vacation, of course...
During the trip I learned so much, and I don't mean just manually, it was mentally moving too. You hear about countries in hardship all of the time, it's in the papers and all over news but it's rare that people see it up close and under your feet (except those relief teams that go to places like Haiti and stuff). I definitely realized how much home means to me and how privileged I am to be living where I am. People in countries like Uganda and Ethiopia live on so little but they are some of the kindest and generous people I've met.
I might post a longer detailed-ish post about the trip but, by for now :)
dh

Vowing...

Dear Readers,
Time for a spontaneous post! I thought of this little..... thing, the other day so enjoy the randomness!

Marriage: Vowing that for everyday of the rest of your life with this person, you will never get bored of them :)

dh

AHHHHHH!?

Dear Readers,

What in the world has happened to me!? Okay, so I am leaving to travel to a far away place in about... 96 hours, and it snuck up on me. MAJORLY. Anyway, I was writing to you guys partially because I haven't really posted anything recently(?) and partly to notify you guys I might not be posting at all for the next month.
The upsides of the trip?
1. I can take notes on the plane rides for a story of mine (Yeah I know, kinda nerdy but hey, I can document it in my story forever :P)
2. I (at-long-last) get to meet my dad's co-workers :S
3. I can (collectively) spend about 32 hours in London, England (I know you all know where London is but, I just like to bathe in the fact that I get to spend a day in England!)
and that's about it, actually...
Please pray I survive and that I can at least attempt to have fun!
dh

Oooooh.... It's Good to Write :)

Dear Readers,
I've decided to write down this scene idea down for you guys 'cause it's actually been lounging around in my brain waiting to be 'unleashed' onto the computer :)

Sarah sighed, now that her rowdy children were being taken good care of she could relax a bit. She initially plopped down on the rarely used sofa, it wasn't worn down because she and the boys were always so busy they pretty much never rested until bedtime; but, she couldn't get comfortable today. Oddly enough, her gaze was drawn to the smooth mac book on the table. She hadn't written anything for pleasure since she had started college, ten years ago. Now, at 31, she had a hardworking husband, three lovely (but loud) boys and two enormous cats. Writing for pleasure had seeped out of her life more and more through the years and as she approached the smooth computer, opened a new Microsoft Document, and sat down in the leather swivel that sat beneath the small table; she felt like she was home. She stared at the screen, on which was depicted the blank page of a fresh sheet. She poised her motherhood-worn fingers inches from the sleek white keyboard and as her fingers descended on the beloved keys, she wrote, and wrote as if she'd never been away from the letters for more than two days. Her fingers danced over the keys making that satisfying clicking music as her thoughts flowed from her fingers and into the document. She composed a symphony of feeling as she told the story of some mystery mother, somewhere in a time that she had made up on the spot. The mother went from hauling groceries in through the door at the very beginning to rushing into a hospital ward to look after her dying mother twenty pages later. Sarah looked briefly up at the computer's clock and was shocked to see it was only 7:39, only a half hour after she'd first sat down. She wasn't as rusty as she'd supposed she would be. Leaning back, she looked over her work, proofread, and then tucked the file away, smiling...

Hope y'all enjoyed :)
dh

Reflections.

Dear Readers,
haha sorry for the break and the in-consistency of these 'reflective times' :)
Today I decided to write a paragraph of my thoughts on the phrase, "The pen is mightier than the sword"
(Actually, this was a writing prompt in my writing class which ended like, a month ago :))

The pen is mightier than the sword. I agree. Think of all the times the pen has triumphed over the sword in history. In books, authors write battles and wars in which (usually) one side wins and the other surrenders without further bloodshed. Treaties are created to save lives from being hacked apart by war; the pen is mightier than the sword.
Plus, authors use words to create weapons, such as Sting, in Lord of the Rings.
So, what do you think? do you agree or disagree?
dh

Hundred Challenge?

Dear Readers,
It seems to me (let me interrupt my own thought, yeah i'm back posting after just posting yesterday but if you guys are cool with constant posting, it's cool with me :)) that everyone blogging has been participating in A Hundred Challenge thing. I think you choose one hundred topics and write, compose or comment on. Has anyone else heard of it?
Please comment :)
dh

A Queen.

Dear Readers,
I just thought of a little scene so, here's for you enjoyment :)

Alethea, queen of Kemt was flustered. Where was Arthur when she needed him?
BANG CRASH
Ah, there he is now, she thought as the great throne room doors were blasted apart. There, the silhouette of a young man was framed. He was soon running to kneel before the queen, panting.
"Your Highness...So sorry I'm... late" he gasped out. Her silk clad foot twitched for him to stand and face her. Arthur looked up at her from the ground, and Alethea realized how dark blue his eyes were.
"How are the villages? Stockades?" she asked pompously.
"Ah- okay" he said, thinking that was all that was needed to summarize the barracks he'd just witnessed. He grinned his crooked grin she loved so much.
"Okay?" she cocked an eyebrow and stepped down from her throne. Striding around the young man she inspected his mud spattered boots and leggings.
"Okay isn't good enough, Arthur" she said forcefully, turning serious. His uniform of the castle messenger was mingled with the tattered remains of his knight's garment.
A silence stretched for a little while as she paused to face directly to Arthur
"I almost forgot" Alethea breathed; her hand stretched out toward the old coat of arms of the castle; the coat of arms that had been in use when they were children. Yes, Queen Alethea was friends, close friends with a castle messenger. It should've been a pity, but it was not known to any one but a few trusted servants and the now dead gate keeper.
"What?" Arthur had regained all his breath in a matter of minutes and crossed his arms.
"That you were once a knight" Alethea said pulling her delicate hand away and then returning to her throne.
"I am still... aren't I?" Arthur sounded confused. As far as he was informed he hadn't done anything disgraceful to disarm him of his title.
"In certain aspects yes, Arthur Jensen, you are still a knight of this castle"
"And since when, your highness, have you used my full name?" Arthur exclaimed, grinning again.
"Since I was queen. But, I agree, we have not been just plain old friends for a while... well, verbally anyways..." Alethea's deep, endless grey eyes grew far away in thought and there was a small silence in the cavernous throne hall.
"Your highness, I must go now... I have to tend Lord Gravel's steed" Arthur looked slightly embarrassed to announce this and turned on his heel before Alethea could say more...
Alethea knew Arthur hated his new 'job'. He'd been badly injured in the last battle that had occurred at Kemt castle; he'd been just twenty when the wound he received landed him a much lower rank than his hard earned knighthood. He'd fully recovered but this didn't stop his pride to keep bleeding; He was now only twenty-five and he was still in 'service' as a messenger and page. He wasn't happy and Alethea knew that. She just had to much to deal with now to renew his proper place and honor. There was yet another war on it's way and after being queen for barely a year, Alethea was very nervous...

Recap?

Dear Readers,
Here'a a 'quick recap' of all the nice things that are going on in my life??
It's Mother's Day
I finished writing class on Thursday which means i can spend more time writing my stuff, like not annoying/stressful essays!
My legs are getting better/recovering from jogging/walking a mile!
I have nice friends :)
I think i have tan lines... faint ones :)
I am blessed to have the internet to post all of this!
YAY!
K byes :)
dh

HEY!

Dear Readers,
HEY YOU! I'm back from a three day break xD
So, i was thinking i was going to be writing a 'sequel' to the post before last i think? maybe it was even earlier :) But here you go!

...Cassie inhaled sharply as the gloved hands that belonged to the castle guard lifted her into the air. And then she was gazing at the handsome face of the Captain of the Guard himself!
"Alright? Better not roonin' in the castle, 'twill get yeh pretty shoes all derty" he said in a thick highland accent.
"I wasn't planning on running DOWN the stairs" Cassie replied as calmly as she could muster. She wasn't comfortable in the guard's strong arms.
"Weel, a'm glaud to hear that! Now wats the hurry?" he said, and set her on her feet.
"Why should I tell you? You're Captain of the Guard aren't you?" Cassie said with a little more dignity.
"Yaes. And you are?"
"...The Princess" Cassie stated.
"Ah- see yeh there, an' that's why I'm naut to let yeh go roonnin' aboot the castle... where's yeh mum, lass?"
"She's dead. You should know that. But then, you are relatively new... you should spend more time in the pubs like all the other soldiers" Cassie said coldly, kicking at a cobweb in the corner nearest her shiny black shoes.
"Ah... a'm sorry miss... very sorry" and with that he started forward, down the hall from where Cassie had just run.
"Wait! Captain, where are you going?" Cassie put all her authority behind those words and straightened up from her childish slouch.
"Weel, a'm joost to go an' see the Lady Highville, why d'you ask, wee lass?"
"Just wondering... after all, I am the Princess" she felt oddly proud now, to be having a conversation with a man so tall and high in society. But then, the WAS the Princess, so technically she was in a higher rank than him. Pushing these thoughts away she turned her full attention back to what he was saying.
"... She ment far me to go and chit-chat weth her about new security plans... naut that you'd be interested" Cassie frowned and then flounced off down the wide staircase to the great hall.
"Thought naut" he said quietly and strode off down the corridor...

Cassie ran as soon as her little, black shoe clad feet hit the stone of the great hall's foyer. She heard the echo of her shoes bouncing off the walls as she raced toward the rooftop garden's stairwell. CLACK CLACK CLACK went the shoes as she climbed the stairs at top speed. She reached the terrace. It was a breezy day but it was sunny, the sky was fuchsia and orange as the magnificent sun set. She gasped for breath and sat down on a marble bench. She wasn't surprised when she felt the cool of tears on her face as the wind blew at her, she was thinking about all that had passed in the last hour. Risk. Gone? Forever? No, surely Lady Highville couldn't keep him away that long. Risk was a good boy, she thought; If he really wants to see me, he'll fight for it...

Ugh...

Dear Readers,
So you may be wondering why i keep writing weird things up here :) Okay, so here's a little window into my life:
-Tomorrow i am going to this day camp with hay rides :P
-On Thursday i have to turn in my RESEARCH PAPER final, AND a short fictional piece
-Also on Thursday, i have to run a mile!!!! do at least 30 sit ups in a minute, do like... five pull ups on a bar??? and just be flexible :P
-and... the next few weeks of my life will be building up to LEAVING this COUNTRY for an entire MONTH
-And... during those weeks, every Thursday i'll be doing even more sports............
Oh Joy...
Please wish me luck and pray i survive the next two months :O
dh

Guiding.

Dear readers,
Okay, so i'm felling kinda weird right now because i keep feeling like i should be 'guiding' my friends. BUT WHO AM I TO SPEAK? i'm immature, awkward, quiet (sometimes) and totally not coaching material but i keep on wanting to encourage, guide and talk to my friends about all sorts of things. Now, i'm not giving bad advice when i do advise, but i want to make sure i'm doing things right, i want to make sure i'm a good friend and advisor.
Please comment advice or opinions!
dh
P.S i know this is kind of an awkward, personal post so, bear with me :)
P.P.S I might be writing a 'sequel' for the previous post, please comment your opinion!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Dear readers,
AHHHHH sorry for not blogging for a while, even when life is boring, you can still find a way to not be able to get to certain things...
Anyway, i have kind of been wanting to write a story-ish thing recently so, read on:

Cassie peeked past the slightly ajar door. The door was heavy and smelled like pine. Standing on her tip-toes and she tried to get a better view inside, without disturbing the slab of wood.
"...Risk, we need o talk" her best friend's mother spoke. She had taken Risk away from Cassie while they were playing their favorite game:Castle Siege.
"Cassie and i are busy mother" Risk's voice said, there was the scrape of a chair being pulled out; for him no doubt. Risk himself had asked for a new set of wooden and tin soldiers that Christmas and they had finally found the time and space to set the miniature castle up. But then Lady Highville swept in and pulled Risk away into the room Cassie was craning her neck to see.
"Not anymore... i wanted to talk to you about her, actually." Lady Highville's voice was oddly calm...
"What, what is it?!" Risk cried, he was getting impatient. Probably because his knight is about to save the maiden in the midst of the charring castle, thought Cassie.
"You MUST stop spending your free time with the girl!" his mother's voice replied. The door slammed shut, nearly clipping Cassie's nose. Frowning, Cassie felt all tangled up inside and then she realized with a shock, she had tears running down her porcelain cheeks. And before she knew it she was running, running away, running... CLACK CLACK CLACK went her little black shoes, shoes Risk had so many times offered to shine for her. She had never let him. She reached the staircase leading down to the great hall, when she realized that she had dropped her precious doll near the door. I can't go back now, she thought. She kept running until her breath was tearing in and out of her lungs and her small legs grew so tired she nearly collapsed. She looked across the room she had entered into the small circle of polished bronze that served as a mirror. Her black curls were coming undone and her cheeks were redder than usual. Taking a deep breath she pursed her lips and ran from the room; but she didn't get far. She ran into something solid, but moving. She felt the soft green jerkin of a castle guard...

TAH DAH! Please comment!
dh

EASTER...

Dear Readers,
Okay so this is kinda belated and certainly should have been posted before my Reflections post!
Anyway, I had a mediocre Easter holiday. I went on a weekend so technically, i didn't get a day off school, we only spent two days down at my grandparent's and i got there just as a group of my relatives was leaving. So, what was good about my Easter break?

-Watching the sixth hockey game in the playoffs (sadly the Pittsburgh Penguins lost :( even though i do usually root for the Flyers)
-Eating the yummy cookies my baking-pro cousins made
-Playing outrageous games with my closest cousins!
-Standing in my grandparents' creek
-Saving a painted turtle from being smooshed on the road (His name is Alfred Smittens :))
-Eating Raspberry chocolate ice cream (YUMMY STUFF)
-Being around my awesome cousins and aunts and uncles in general!

Okay, so how'd your Easter break go?
dh

Reflections.

Dear Readers,
No this is not a repeat :) So today's 'Reflection' actually involves two things I've decided to write and think about:
A Familiar Place
&
Wishing
(Inspiration for Wishing was from my cousin :))

A Familiar Place:
Dana was in her grandparents' computer/office room and the stifling hot of mid July, was being battled off by the whirring fan above her. The filing cabinets towered, threatening to topple over, sending sheaf after sheaf of insurance bills and old checks everywhere. The clock ticked. The creek just at the edge of the property rushed on, the noise of water tumbling over smooth river bed rocks was so calming But... try as she might, Dana couldn't get comfortable of the little pull out bed and she found her self at the window ledge, peeking through the sheer curtains up into the starlit sky. She looked down over the yard, it was peaceful and the grass was tall and waving as usual. Grandpop just couldn't keep up with it. Sighing, Dana climbed back into bed and closed her eyes, willing sleep to take her thoughts away. And soon enough, it did. Dana's consciousness fell away into the black void of a sound, dreamless sleep...

Wishing:
People wish. All the time throughout the day, playing or working, human's wish for many things. A mom might wish that her house would be forever clean as she watches her teens wave the last party guests away; A dad might wish the time would go slower so he can get caught up on emails and work. A pair of boys wish they could really be riding huge red dragons instead of the arms of the family room couch.
We Wish.
I think one of the most fervently wished one would be that you never die, or never age. If you never died, you could be a multi millionaire forever and keep getting even more money; you could learn how to do anything you wanted, after all the have all the time in the world to spend perfecting new hobbies. But soon, I think I would find life to be monotonous, boring even. I would probably have to watch all my friends die and attend the funerals of many. Would you want to live forever?
Now, if you were young, for as long as you live, you could be forever partying and playing. You would always be your age and always please your husband or wife without even doing anything. You wouldn't have as many health problems as most eighty year olds and you certainly wouldn't have to deal with saggy skin and weight problems. But, perhaps you would miss out on that teen asking your advice on a big decision, or actually looking like a grandma or grandpa when your children have children. Would you want to look young forever?

Please comment your opinions!
dh

Date Night

Dear Readers,
Sorry for the long pause from blogging. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not going on anything remotely related to a date with anyone :)
I called this post 'Date Night' because my fingers have been dying to type up a storm of crazy action words and a stress ridden account of a girl babysitting her siblings while her parents go out and relax somewhere nice...

It was raining, to bad for the romantic atmosphere Dad wanted. Mom descended the 'staircase' in a her new red dress and black pumps and called upstairs for Dad to follow. He's such a leader.
Anyway, Spencer was in his bouncy chair, quiet for the moment but I had worn my junkiest t-shirt for a reason: later he'd be a cereal throwing, wailing mess of a two year old and giving me a splitting headache. Dad finally trotted down the stairs and with a hand on my Mother's bare back waved us farewell and good luck.
Chad didn't even make a noise as they existed, concentration and slightly watering eyes glued to the flat screen TV gunning down men in armor in the latest 'Halo'. Jason was probably toiling away at homework up stairs and wouldn't appear until the rest of us had gone to bed. Maybe he'd come down and get a Monster from the garage. I picked through the mine field of Legos, Pokemon cards, trash and clothing to the oily kitchen. It has always surprised me how my Mother could manage being the best Mom at soccer practice, always organized and genuinely interested in where her boys actually were, and then be the most negligent to cleaning in the kitchen. Pots and a few sauce pans were still in the sink from two nights ago when we had pasta and last night's lasagna dishes were still piling out of the double sink. Pulling back my precious hair from the fumes of garlic and grease, i dug my hands into the metallic mess and started scrubbing. I looked up at 7:20 something with half the dishes gone and washed and my t-shirt close to soaked. About twenty minutes later i heard a scream from the living room and a loud thud from up stairs. Probably Chad losing all his progress in a hard level, and Jason's hand sliding on one of his enormous history of America books. Trusting that no one was seriously injured i carried on washing until the last greasy pan was squeaky clean and shiny again (and that's saying something). Feeling accomplished, i moved onto trying to penetrate the debris that made up the living room floor and, cleaning around Chad, managed to get just some of the cat hair off of the couch. By 8:30 i was done doing all i could to help our living room and after doing all the dirty work with Spencer, i whisked him away to his crib, praying all the way there that he wouldn't throw up the bottle i'd just given to him in my face, and that he would at least try and go to sleep. After a good twenty minutes of singing for him (i swear, the baby practically has a servant: ME) i went back down stairs and relaxed and read my book for a bit. By 9:00 the characters in the story had gone from frazzled teens to heroes of the hour and just as i skimmed the very last paragraph, Mom and Dad rang the doorbell. I yelled to Chad from the kitchen bay window to open up and continued reading the epilogue...
So there you have it, please comment!
dh

Dreams.

Dear Readers,
I love dreams. Of both kinds. Most of the time I can remember the strange details of my dreams which baffles my family, but sometimes they're foggy. Dreams are awesome, and everyone of them has a different effect on the person whop dreams it. Sometimes you can wake up crying because of your dream (which, i have experienced)and sometimes feeling tired, like your brain was really working while you slept. Now, there's that other kind of dreaming. Actually there are a few other kinds of dreaming:
Day dreaming- when you're conscious of what is running through your brain, and you could possibly have a heavy history book on your lap...
Dreaming- as in setting goals for yourself to fulfill in your future.
and half conscious dreaming- that funny thing when you know you're awake so you change your dream if your brain makes something happen you don't like (Yes, I've had this one too).
If you have any kind to add please comment :)
dh

Reflections.

Dear Readers,
I'm starting this project called Reflections. So whenever I think my thoughts on certain subjects are good enough to publish, I'll post them on here.
The paragraph I've decided on writing for you is deep and when I contemplating writing about it I realized how ironically the title of this project goes with the subject: The Future You…

I guess when people are young they dream about starting families, being married to their dreamy other half, and, obviously having kids. I was thinking about the whole phenomenon recently (can't remember where exactly) and thought I could write a little on it. This is an occasion for a bit of descriptive fun, in my opinion :)
NOTE: The person in this 'story' is supposed to be me when I'm older, and I won't be publishing my real name…
NOTE: haha I'm going to have fun with names too! not that I'm really going to name my kids these!

It was a hot day. The New Jersey area was experiencing a heat wave that called for sunblock, sand and the crashing waves of Ocean City, the nearby beach. Well, nearby to where Ann lived, with her small band of children and her brilliant doctor husband, Luke. They were all heading down to the beach to spend the weekend at their 'summer house' that was really lent to them whenever they pleased, by Luke's parents. Ann was running around the small row home chasing a shirtless little boy with thick, messy brown hair.
"Griffin! Come on, the sooner we get you dressed the sooner you can play in the sand!" she coaxed the boy from the closet, where he'd wisely hidden. Trapping him to her, she tugged a little blue T-shirt over his head.
"Mommy, where's daddy?" the little boy squirmed away from his mother's searching fingers as she tried to wipe his nose.
"He's coming home from work early, he should be home any minute" Then came the slam of the front door down stairs and the shriek of a little girl. So much noise had disturbed the sleeping baby at the end of the hall. Ann shooed Griffin down the stairs and called down to Luke,
"I'll be right there honey, let me just grab Val!" she heard Luke scoop Griffin up in his arms as he replied,
"'K… hey buddy! Ann, Martha just called me saying she had something for you on our way out"
"Okay" Ann was now picking her way down the stairs (through the toys that garnished the sides) holding a tearful baby girl.
"Hey Val" Luke tickled under the girl's chubby chin with a long finger and was rewarded with a gurgling laugh. Ann was looking over his shoulder and suddenly gasped,
"Egypt! Oh no…" She rushed over to the other little girl, who was standing over a spilled mug of cold coffee.
"Uh-oh" she said, pointing to the brown liquid that was now running onto the chic off white carpet. After plopping Valentine in her bouncy chair Ann whisked into the tiny kitchen, sighing.
"Need any help?" Luke asked, dropping his keys in a nearby basket and shrugging off his bag.
"No, no, you go ahead and pack"
"Yes Ma'am" he said and trudged up the steps, Griffin trotting after him asking to help.
An hour and a half later, the Gordon family was unloading their minivan in the cobblestone drive of number 13 Asbury and Starfish. The house wasn't old but it wasn't as sleek as the neighboring two story beach houses. Its exterior looked reminiscent of the Victorian times with trim the color of sand and the siding was pure white. It looked like a massive cake to little Egypt Gordon. The house was relatively tall and inside was spacious. The floors were all carpeted with area rugs of geometric designs in classy black and white. The beach theming ran through the kitchen, bathrooms and basement but all the bedrooms had their very own special color scheme. The room Griffin and Egypt always shared was completely orange with splashes of white in the pattern of skinny palm trees. The master suite that was room enough for Luke, Ann, and little Valentine's crib was decked in a brilliant shade of emerald with gold accents. There were two other rooms that were never used because, #1 They were, well, less used and therefore less grand, and #2 because one of them was an office with only a pull-out couch.
After getting all settled in, even with a few toys already scattered around, Ann ran out tot he local grocery store while Luke entertained the kids for a while. Griffin was tugging on his sleeve to play 'racky ball' or Racket Ball in the narrow back yard and Egypt wanted to color butterflies with him; Valentine was asleep upstairs…

YAY! Hope you guys enjoyed it! It's kinda cut off-ish, so sorry 'bout that!
dh

YAY!

Dear Readers,
AHHHH! sorry for not writing for a while! Okay so today is so pretty outside! YAY spring is like, REALLY here. But who can really say that with all the proof of two spring-y like days in a row with a rainy day in between them. Wait, then that isn't in a row, technically... WHATEVER!!
So, i realized recently that you readers must be rather bored with the fact that my entire blog has no pictures! SORRY! i have no idea how to get them on here! Isn't there some weird 'embedding' process?
If you know how to get pictures in your posts please comment!
dh

Haha The Radio and Facebook...

Dear readers,
I realized how odd it is that EVERY SINGLE radio station asks people to follow them on Facebook of like, Twitter or whatever. OR, they always thank people for "keeping us the most listened to station in Philly for 54 months in a row" but I really think instead of a humble gesture, they're just showing off that they hold the record, haha... What do you think?
dh

Concerning Weather and Summer...

Dear Readers,
like everyone else on the planet, well, in the U.S at least, i want the weather to make up its mind. On last Friday, it snowed. Today, it's supposed to be 78 degrees?
Now we all love summer and some people even like to wait for it, they're patient when it snows in April!
So, which one are you, and what's your response to the weather?
dh

Future.

Is it possible that posting more than once in the space of five hours could be unhealthy? Maybe.
I was thinking i would write something meaningful, something deep. Something about growing up, or perhaps the weirdness of dreams and then i thought of something; why not write a post to me, in the future? Well, that sounded good and it sounded like an opportunity to write a kind of story :D
*I'll be using fake names for fun :)*

Dear Readers,
Well, here I am, sitting at my desk, which is currently my tiny kitchen/dinning table. I just moved in, referring back to my previous post in anticipation of finally purchasing/owning a house of my own. I moved up to DC, closer to work, and closer to school. Last night I went to Alecia and Jack's place for a delicious dinner. There they were, settled in their brand new row home, Alecia was rocking a vintage brown dress and shooing the kids away from the hot stove as she happily recounted the last few weeks to me. Mariah and Paton were out of town for the weekend, hence their absence. Mariah had announced their first baby just last week and my guess is that they went away on a little holiday to celebrate. After a filling dinner of Alecia's world famous pasta (well it should be) and salty Italian garlic bread (home made) we hung around their small living room, playing with the twins and trying to get their little girl, Rosa, to walk a few steps toward Daddy. It was such a satisfying way to spend the evening. At nine something, with the kids all tucked away, Alecia and Jack waved to me from the door; light pouring out behind them making it a memorable and dramatic farewell. Now, i'm all alone, it's Saturday so i'm off school and work, Hallelujah!
Well, that's about it! Hope to write soon!
dh

Hope you liked it! Please comment :)

So.

Dear Readers,
I remembered a 'childhood' memory; a while ago i would say 'So...' in every space i now fill with 'Like...' so, my friends told me my 'word' was 'So...' What's your word?
To be honest, I feel a bit lame.
I go to a lot of blogs, mostly photography blogs and wedding blogs (weirdly enough; I'm only thirteen!) and I see how cool they are and how eloquently the authors express their deep, meaningful thoughts. Wow. It feels like I'm some how 'under dressed'.
Please comment any thoughts YOU WOULD want ME to write about or add onto :)
dh

New Year's Resolutions

Dear Readers,
I realized how ironic New Year's resolutions can be, sometimes when i make up my mind i go and say, "I've just made a new year's resolution" right there even if it's halfway through the new year anyway. You could even say, "I'm making a new year's resolution to make a new year's resolution next year" which would be a good idea in my opinion, it'd be fun reminder!
Write back if you want to add anything :)
dh

Revamping...

Hey guys, just lettin' you know i'm gonna be revamping my blog's layout and title and everything, hope you like the new spring layout!
dh

Riddles...

I think the term, 'talking in riddles' is cool, but in the literal sense, annoying. Imagine having a conversation with someone who talks in riddles?! well, i have a few riddles of my own, here they are, the answers are in the comments!


Odd on both sides
Even in the middle
When you write me down by letter
I begin with an S
Ending with an E
In between seven with a certain count of zeros
And an eight with two of the number line’s only neutral
The product of seven and three make up the middle and end of me
What number am I?


A cruel tool used for casting lots,
ruining lives and making trouble
Often can be used to cheat to give the plotter what he needs...
Some come in colors some come in bone, Ivory tusks and even stone
Simple symbols upon its surface can spell the doom of any man
For it has no feelings no emotion,
No sight to see the wicked deeds to which it often serves
For if it had the little monster would not change,
for its life is for a game, nothing more…
What am I?

Thanks! comment your answers!

Imagination.

Sorry for not getting on recently! I've been a busy bee.

So, i had my cousins visit for Cross Culture (My church's youth ministry) and Sunday morning and i was talking to them and some one said,
"Why do you play with us? you're a teenager and all they do is sit around and talk to their friends, not run around outside and play!" and i made the statement that all older teens lose their imagination; DO YOU AGREE OR DISAGREE?
I think they lose their imagination in the creative sense. Like they would never get out their My Scene dolls and actually have fun with them. They'd probably sooner write an inspired love song or hang out with friends all day.
Please comment if you have anything to add!

What Is It With Us?

I realized recently, that how weird people are concerning, secret things. Or things that are supposed to be secret, like Passwords, for instance. What's the point of using a sticky note on your monitor to remind you and anyone else who happens to look there, of YOUR password?! Now, on the subject of secret love? Psh, that's the worst one. It's like, "Oh yeah, their like, together but really 'cause it's supposed to be secret 'cause their really like, not old enough..." Really? WOW. Let's try and keep our memories are sharp so we don't need sticky notes and our gossip to ourselves please!
Comment if you agree :D

Part 2 of 3!!!

Pt #2 of 3

Indigo finally realized Yellow wasn’t paying much attention to him.
“How did you follow me?!”
“Ways and means…” replied Yellow, he actually stepped toward Scarlet.
“Not so fast…” Indigo hated himself for saying something so cliché…
“First tell me how you knew we were here; and why’d you come, surely you would’ve considered Scarlet was already mine?”
“Oh, boy did I… but I did some brainstorming with- with a friend” Yellow was determined that Indigo would not know anymore than absolutely necessary.
“Hmm… Scarlet has been trapped here for two weeks” Indigo taunted.
“Yeah, but we’re here now” said Yellow after recapturing the control of his loose jaw.
“Yes… and what do you plan on doing, exactly?” Indigo asked bluntly; no use in meandering through needless conversation to get the answer he needed.
“Save Scarlet and- yeah” Yellow flushed, stumbling over his words a little. Scarlet made a noise that suggested a giggle.
“AH- but that’s where my genius comes into the picture; see, I’ve already locked this place down” Indigo emphasized his last few words with a fist on the nearby kitchen table. Triumphant grin was fully formed on his lips;
“The security head was stupid enough to take my bribe…”
“omumhp” grunted Scarlet.
“How much?” Indigo interpreted, his impish grin widening so it almost split his features in half.
“Always the diplomat, only five hundred…”
Scarlet gasped through her gag.
“Hey, Indy, I’m surprised you weren’t gentleman enough… even to Scarlet to remove her gag” Yellow stalled; he was inching closer to the kitchen counter where he’d spotted a large meat cleaver sat innocently on a cutting board. Perfect leverage, thought Yellow.
“Oh, well…” Indigo replied, slightly confused at this answer, awkwardly he backed toward Scarlet, blocking Yellow’s view.
Yellow was disappointed. She looked good even if her hair was messy and make up running; he didn’t like not watching her at this close proximity to the untrustworthy Indigo…
“Please, let’s untie her and talk reasonably” Yellow made a valiant attempt at civilized conduct in the moment.
“Oh- that won’t be possible I’m afraid” said Indigo, his long lasting grin transforming into an ugly jeer.
“I’ve got her covered to, Yellow, look up…” Indigo pointed a finger to the ceiling; the stucco was freshly broken at near the top and a spider’s web thin thread was running from the hole to the back of Scarlet’s chair. Looking closer; Yellow realized, not only had Indigo moved to let him see; but that Scarlet’s lap was weaved with the thread as well. Seizing his chance; while Indigo had let his guard down; Yellow bolted right and grabbed the meat cleaver, Scarlet screamed through the gag ( a deafening noise anyway) and Indigo let out a roar of rage, and quickly pain. Yellow; by accident, of course, had waved the heavy knife in the air for a victory dance and had grazed Indigo’s shoulder as he past and tried to wrest the blade from him. Holding his wounded arm; Indigo said, through gritted teeth,
“Fine; take her… she’s all yours” and sat with a creak on the spare kitchen seat. Rushing forward, Yellow let all of his feeling pour from his mouth; almost; he had just begun to say,
“Oh, Scarlet, I lo-” when he touched the wire encircling her torso and lap; there was a twanging noise and he was suddenly underground…
He heard Scarlet’s distant scream and Indigo’s hollow laugh above him.
Seeing everything from her chair; Scarlet was horrified. Horrified that Indigo would hurt Yellow like that (for all she knew he could’ve landed wrong and could be knocked out by now) and horrified that Indigo had put her in the position she was now currently suspended in (literally).
“Scarlet? What’s going on up there?!” Yellow’s voice carried up the shaft to Scarlet.
“Eestungeeoupateryouell” she grunted; the gag was getting soggy…
“She says, ‘he strung me up after you fell!’” Indigo mimicked Scarlet’s fearfully shrill voice (if you could call it that).
“I’ll catch up to you, Indy!” Bellowed a helpless Yellow; his head was thrown back to look up the shaft; Indigo was smiling fiendishly and in the tiny back round; he could see the bound and gagged Scarlet, his beloved Scarlet, hanging by the back of the chair from the ceiling.
“LET HER DOWN, INDIGO, RIGHT NOW!” roared Yellow,
“Very well…” Indigo replied maliciously.
He took out a pocket knife; even from down here Yellow saw Scarlet’s brown eyes widen. Slowly, Indigo cut her free; but not by the ceiling first, surprisingly. She screamed as he plucked the gag from her mouth and then neatly caught her, like cradling a baby as the chair clattered to the linoleum floor. Yellow’s anger rose up. His arch-enemy was holding his girl and she could do nothing about it; her hands were still tied. Then, Indigo did something totally un-expected, something daring, very daring indeed; he kissed her cheek. Unfortunately, Scarlet couldn’t pull away from the prolonged, close contact, if she did, she would tumble right down the dark shoot below her and join her beloved Yellow, which if she did (and she desperately wanted) she might land wrong, all tied up like this, and crush him!
“So long, you fool!” Cried Indigo and swept out of sight, carrying a helpless, un-happy damsel in distress with him…
Yellow slammed his rock hard fist against the dirt wall; what, did she not mind Indigo kissing her like that? He didn’t see her face…
Then, his conscious started up;
No! She can’t possibly fall for him! I’ve been her hero ever since she became governess, seven years ago!
Well, Indigo is more, shall I say, charming, than you… you’ve been getting, face it, stale, Indigo is a new villain…
Yeah, but I was here first!
But Indigo is smart; push came to shove, dude
But I won’t give in! He hasn’t gotten that strong a grip on her!
Yellow sighed. His internal debating wasn’t going to help him get out and find where Indigo had swept her off to;
“Hey! HEY! HEY BROWN?” he bellowed up the dark chute; desperate for some one to hear him…
And there you have it! Sorry, I won’t be writing a epilogue, but feel free to invent a happy ending yourself!
Thanks for reading,
dh

Clothing!

Okay, so let me make my argument clear; i'm not against skinny jeans or relatively close fitting clothing, but; when the items of clothing become like, skin tight, i can't help but wonder, who really thinks that is attractive?! So, i like skinny jeans. I own a pair. I just hate when girls (and sometimes guys :/) where skin tight things and do it all for 'beauty's sake.

Comment if you would like to add to this!

Part 3...

I decided to continue the little story of Indigo & Yellow, the hero, villain, and damsel in distress ;)

Here's the text!

Pt #3!!!

Indigo was mad. Scarlet was here. He’d found her, right where he’d expected to find her, at her security head’s vacation home. Why here? Scarlet had been on business, suddenly, the rather dull security head, still slightly silly from a hang over had realized his boss would be worth something like a small fortune, and since Scarlet and he had never really been close, he had no hesitation in keeping her in a kind of house arrest. The story is very unlikely, but as I said, he was still stupid with drink, and since when he came fully to, he decided that it made no difference anyway, if he kept her or not. So, dear, missed Scarlet had spent the night in his basement, being half starved and harassed by his bossy children whom she had to babysit. Indigo, had wisely held his silence when Scarlet confided to him that she was going on a business trip concerning tightening the city and government head builds’ security in person, rather than send a diplomat. She liked being a hands-on governess. But, when she had been gone for more than the customary two days; Indigo started to worry; so did the press. Yellow, had only caught up two days ago, and, obviously let Scarlet go to perhaps, pursue another woman, the thought made Indigo smirk.
But, as we both know, the noble Yellow had no such plan of leaving his one true love to Indigo. Currently, as Indigo seethed in the dusty basement, of the security guard’s home, Yellow was meeting up with his friend and colleague, a man called Brown.
Brown was a welder.
Yellow had partnered with him when he had first captured a knack for saving pretty ladies, and employed him to make all of his metal-related tools for swooping through a smoky building and saving people. Brown was proud, although no one knew but him and their adversary, Indigo, that he was working with the infamous Yellow.
“Ah, dear Brown, I have some business I need to be done by tonight” Yellow announced as he barged into Brown’s penthouse unceremoniously. Brown was in the middle of dressing; buckling his belt he grabbed a shirt of a stainless steel wrack.
“Been waiting for you” he said, nonplussed as Yellow flung himself carelessly on the flawless white sofa.
“I suppose you have, haven’t had any good business recently eh?”
Brown grunted as he dragged a comb through his mad-scientist’s hair.
“I also presume that you know about our lovely governess missing,” Yellow looked around for his friend; he’d disappeared.
“Still here!” Brown said and oddly enough; was hanging uside down over Yellow’s dark head.
“And, yes I have; are you going in for the big prize?”
“What d’you mean, ‘the big prize’?” Yellow asked, amused. Brown shimmied down until his head was nearly on top of the glass coffee table.
“You’re finally rescuing the city’s top woman?! I mean, I thought the governess’ receptionist was pretty well big!” Brown descended to the floor and stood up; a silvery harness was strapped about him and he was grinning, his big white teeth shining. He’s totally been using a teeth-whitening system, thought Yellow.
“Well, I hardly ‘saved’ the pretty girl; she was just locked up in a filing cabinet-”
“Yeah, well…” Brown turned and unbuckled his harness.
“Anyway, what is that?” Yellow transitioned awkwardly. His friend could be so tricky sometimes.
“A new contraption of my brilliance; hardly fit for use right now…” Brown stashed it away in a matching silver case.
“Okay, enough talk; I need a good strong grappling hook; strong enough for about… three hundred pounds?”
Brown’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his crazy hair.
“Three hundred?!”
“Yeah” said Yellow pointlessly.
“Well… you might be waiting for the next century’s geniuses to come up with that one!”
“But I don’t have that time!” burst out Yellow; he was almost sick with worry; where was she? He ran over the worst scenarios in his mind; it didn’t help now that Brown was stating the equipment he needed was far away from being made.
“Do you have a double harness I could borrow?” he asked instead of voicing his frustration; he fought to keep his voice calm.
“Yeah sure; like twenty, d’you want the newest model?”
“Is it more comfortable than the Climber 300?”
“Heavenly” Brown disappeared and came back holding a midnight blue case.
“All yours, I had sixty copies made for the rental of other heroes; you’re not my only source of income anymore, Yellow” Brown said with a sad smile, and lifted the box’s lid. Inside laid a jumble of steely straps.
“Here, I’ll show you how to put it one, and sling it and then we can work on where Scarlet would be, right?”
“Sounds good!” Yellow proceeded to utterly failing to put the harness on himself and than after Brown had got him in the straps right, the walked to the coffee table and discussed Scarlet’s whereabouts. After exhausting their obvious options and not even coming up with anything worthwhile, Yellow succumbed to the despair he felt inside.
“Indigo’s probably already whisking her away to his apartment” Yellow groaned, he raked his fingers down his distressed features and looked heaven ward.
“Okay, well, that thinking isn’t helping anyone” said Brown, flinging an arm around Yellow for supposed comfort, but only made more pessimistic things come from Yellow’s mouth.
“She probably thinks I’ve given up on her, on us!” Yellow buried his face in his arms.
“Okay, okay… here” Brown handed the despairing Yellow a tissue box.
“Where was she last, what’d she say to you, word for word” Brown demanded, all comfort evaporated from his tone, he wanted to grab Yellow and shake him out of his lovesick state, to get the old Yellow back.
“We were at her swearing-in party; long time ago, I know, but she was talking to me about the champagne…” Yellow had a misty-eyed look about him as we went on recounting their last meeting.
“She was in a red dress, like her name… she looked so elegant…”
“Dude, WAKE UP!” Brown said impatiently.
“Okay, okay!” Yellow said, hands in the air in mock surrender.
“Anyway, there she was, looking gorgeous and shaking hands and she… she” Here, Yellow frowned. What had she said? Oh, yes….
“Ha! She was commenting about the nice champagne a mystery man had left in her office, when Mauve, he receptionist, whisked me away to meet her cousin…” Yellow’s eyes cleared and he sat straight.
“That’s it… wait, no, that’s a mystery to solve later…”
“What?”
“The champagne, of course, who left it…?” Yellow looked into space once more and picked up where he left.
“And then after meeting Jade, Mauve’s stunning cousin, I saw Scarlet slip off to the restroom, and that’s all I can remember”
Brown sighed.
“I was hoping for more…”
“Oh well, it’s getting late” Yellow stretched and yawned cavernously.
“But heroes never sleep on the job, eh?” Brown said loudly and thumped Yellow on the back so far he tipped forward.
“Nope…” Yellow yawned again and then violently slapped himself.
“How could I even think of sleeping…! Scarlet’s probably tied up and… and” he couldn’t bring himself to voice his thoughts.
The truth was, that Scarlet was not dead, as Yellow’s unpleasant imagination had suggested; she was, though, tied up. Indigo was questioning her. He hadn’t tied her up; that was already done when he’d arrived and he was a gentleman enough to not do it himself anyway; but he had made no effort to relieve her uncomfortable state.
“So, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we trusted each other!” Indigo paced in front of her. He had removed the dish towel gag for interrogation and her pretty brown eyes were accusatory.
“Well… you only discovered me recently, I didn’t think I’d confide in you until, say three years?” she was being truthful. She was a very thorough person.
“THREE YEARS?!” exploded Indigo, who, to himself was surprised by her evaluation of him.
“You don’t think I’m trustworthy?” he said, voice straining to keep calm.
“Well… you are a villain, aren’t you?” she said, chewing her parched lip.
“Not for you!” Indigo cursed her stupidity. Couldn’t she see he wanted to be with her? Maybe she was to in love with Yellow to notice his careful friendship with her… The thought made him kick a kitchen chair; he bruised his toe.
“Oh… well…” she said awkwardly.
“Hey, we’ve got some more company!” a gruff voice called form the broken down porch. They heard the crunch of boots on gravel.
“Tell me, how long have you been… with Yellow?” Indigo asked; whipping around, back to a frightened Scarlet, voice dangerously silky.
“I-I don’t know, I don’t know when I- I fell for him!” she cried; tears were coursing down her face as Indigo’s was so close to hers and so angry and hurt. Suddenly, his features softened; he yanked his glove off with his teeth, knelt by her side and gingerly wiped her tears away.
“Doesn’t matter now, do it? Yellow’s probably at the door. A tad late, as usual; but making the valiant comeback…” Indigo’s voice was once again transformed; bitter and sad.
“In-Indigo, I could never love you that way!” Scarlet said loudly; shocked and surprised and guilty all at the same time. All this time she’d been so blind, and, being a sensitive person hated hurting others or causing pain to them, conscious or not. But it was too late; Indigo was hardened to her; forever or temporary, she did not know. Stuffing the gag ungraciously back into her protesting mouth, he swept past, only to be stopped in the corridor-
Scarlet’s heart was bursting. She wanted to run, to hug Yellow and tell him she had never doubted his faithfulness for one second, when Indigo spoke. His face was contorted with rage.
“Yellow! I told you you’d lost her, you gave up!”
“No, I didn’t!” said Yellow absentmindedly; he was gazing past Indigo’s shoulder to the bound and gagged Scarlet whose large, brown eyes were wide. His heart was thumping so hard he was mildly surprised Indigo wasn’t rushing him to the hospital for fear it might burst. He was so relieved she was okay; his heart felt immensely light.


(I'M DOING THIS IN CHUNKS!)
P.S this is the climax, by the way ;)

Isn't It Sad That...

I love envisioning myself sitting at a desk, scrawling out some novel on a blank piece of parchment; but sadly, I write alllllll of my inspiration on my family's computer. I literally have hundreds of pages in a folder of old stories, new ones, ones I want to finish, or fragments of stories I haven't written all the way.

I had this absurd thought one afternoon, of inventing my own style of writing. Of course, without a doubt, the technique is already taken and labeled, but for my sake, I pretend like i was the original pioneer of it.
It's called, as far as i'm concerned, Patchwork Writing. You write a beginning, and the the end. You write a plot summary, it can change and morph as you write the fragmented middle, to fit the bill you wanted at the beginning. After however long you want; you start to put it together. The beginning, and then the foremost fragment of middle, and then all the rest of the fragments and the the end. Knitting everything together in the end with little details and characters and what-not.

So... yeah, hope you enjoyed and please comment!
dh

Suddenly...

AGH i think of much to say, so...

Suddenly Alexa felt something warm and thick on her lower leg; she looked down and nearly fainted. Her jeans were ripped open to reveal her practically cleaved in half leg; blood was running freely down into her slippery shoes. Just as she felt herself collapse (no doubt because of sudden blood loss) she felt someone catch her around the waist, and then everything was black. Unfortunately the noise of the anguished and dying were not blotted out like her sight; the intense pain had now receded to a continuous throbbing, intensifying if she was bumped or a cloak brushed pass. She heard the clang of sword against sword, whoever was supporting her was panting with the effort of fighting one handed and seemed to be loosing the battle...


eh... bit gory, but i was writing in the moment :P

Descriptive...

I got my inspiration from the car trip back from Co-op, so don't blame me if this turns out lame!

Bria sighed; the damp but pleasurable scent of a coming rainstorm filled the air rushing through her opened window. She lifted her large grey eyes to see their color reflected on the undersides of rolling clouds. Below the stormy canvas of sky the tall, skinny trees at the edge of the Moor's property swayed eerily, a crow squawked and flew out of the topmost branches. Bria chewed her lip, she hated the way the whole world seemed to quiet down before a storm, the animals and critters of the outdoors had no time for singing, they had to prepare for the worst, unlike the humans who lived in anticipation for a scene of nature's power; safe in their homes...

Okay, Sorry...

I haven't just written anything about my life recently! it's all been "Part one of this" and "Part one of that" so now i'm going to update you all on my day and week...

This morning i left at like, ten fifty to be poked and prodded (went to the doctors in simpler terms...) and then went home and then got ready to go to West Chester (like the city...) to 'model' for a friend photographer in the city's streets. After standing against brick walls, siting down in an empty parking lot, and getting a Grande Caramel Macchiato, we came home and now i'm sitting in the warm family room, writing this... As for last week... well, i can't really remember! but maybe that's a good thing...

Love y'all :D
DH

Part Two!

Pt #2 of Indigo & Yellow...


…Yellow rushed forward, making to seize the old photo from Indigo’s hands; but Indigo, fast as ever, dodged away. Leaping over Yellow’s head he cleared the desk between them. Indigo glanced again at the photo under the cracked glass. It was signed by Yellow and a large heart encompassed to scrawling signature, a triumphant smirk spread rapidly across Indigo’s features. Turning slowly on the spot, crunching glass underfoot, Yellow confronted Indigo. His handsome face contorted into a kind of fearful rage.
“You didn’t tell me you knew her…like this” Indigo said, still in a half crouch, ready to sprint in any direction should Yellow decide he had had enough of talking. His grin widened as he remembered the almost clumsily drawn heart around Yellow’s name.
“Why would I?” Yellow straightened up, as if to show he had no intention of attack.
“Well… we do run into each other occasionally, we run this city together… remember?” Indigo said quietly, he knew he was treading on already cracked eggshells, his last words, he could tell, had stung Yellow.
“Yes. But Scarlet trusts me; she’s never met you…” Yellow replied curtly, standing feet apart in a defiant stance, as if determined not to be lured into action by Indigo’s bait.
“And she doesn’t have to, my report card is, as I’ve heard, is straight A’s. No tardiness to be sniffed out…” Indigo shifted his weight from one foot to another, he was sure this time Yellow would react to his spiteful words, but Yellow remained where he was; though his face was now almost pure rage.
“Get out. Please” Yellow said, his voice was clipped and aggressive.
“Yes sir…” Indigo suppressed a smirk, though not very well, for Yellow had finally let vent to his intense embarrassment and anger. Springing into action, Yellow bulldozed right into Indigo’s midriff, bowling him over easily; the already cracked frame split in two, leaving the raw photo of Yellow and his signaturein Indigo’s hand. Indigo tried to wriggle out from Yellow’s massive dead weight, but Yellow was planted on top of him, like a tree.
“Get…Off…or I’ll rip it!” Indigo threatened, Yellow looked up, his iron grip slackening a fraction. But a fraction was all speedy Indigo needed, he bucked and writhed and finally struggled free. Darting to the office door, he laid a hand on the brass knob.
“I hear footsteps… looks like are to be reunited with your paparazzi soon, dear Yellow…” Indigo allowed himself one more victorious smirk, and then leapt through the door, darting down the corridor beyond.
Yellow sighed. His handsome features furrowed in a frown. He sat down in Scarlet’s would-be leather throne, and looked out the floor to ceiling window. Sighing again and looking forlorn, Yellow picked up a blank piece of paper and an ink pen and began to write; he was writing to Scarlet.

Scarlet,
I’m sorry I wasn’t your hero this time… our mutual friend, Indigo man, you’ll find is better at the job. I won’t give up on us though.
Y

Pulling himself together, Yellow heaved himself out of the comfort of the chair and exited the destroyed office, weaved through the flood of reporters and journalists, and caught a cab.
“District of Amber, please.” Yellow exhaled to the driver, and watched the Governess’ home vanish out of the back windshield.
“You heard about the Governess?” the driver asked, turning onto Cloud Drive.
“Oh… yeah, who hasn't?” Yellow replied distractedly, he was thinking of were Scarlet could be trapped at that moment, and the fact that he was being driven home in cab, comfortable and relatively happy…
“Yeah, the reporters have only gathered that she may have been abducted, but by who? Nobody knows…” the driver shook his round, bald head.
“Don’t suppose anyone is willing to step into temporary governess or governor?” Yellow asked, tearing his brown-eyed gaze from the window.
“Nah, they’re all afraid they’ll be taken to, I mean, it’s only happened once though, right?” Yellow nodded and then realized the driver had his eyes on the road and hadn’t seen him and said,
“Hmm…”
“Maybe it had to do with her being a lady and all?” the driver pulled the stick shift into park and turned in his seat, hand extended for pay.
“Yeah, maybe…” Yellow said thoughtfully and dragged a fistful of cash from his shorts and exited the cab.

Haha...

Here's Part 1 of this tale of Indigo and Yellow...


There were once two super heroes, the notorious Yellow, and the crafty Indigo. They both had to share one city, the city of Purple; the Governess was called Scarlet, she was breathtakingly beautiful and smart. Yellow was somewhat of a stereotype, tall, good looking and athletic with a certain amount of proud dignity and charm about him. The one thing Yellow did not excel in was honesty, which made him a kind of crook in his own way, his deceptive weakness left him in a mess of covered up debts to other credible men, and a trail of heartbroken lovers that often hindered his burden to help and save the public of Purple.
Indigo’s profile, on the other hand was what some might identify as criminal. Small, crafty and charming, Indigo made his name infamous by figuring out the police forces’ most tangled crime cases. Indigo’s ninja like silence made his sudden appearance on the scene of crime baffling even to the fastest transport systems; he often beat Yellow to the damsel in distress.
One thing Indigo and Yellow both acknowledged was their respect for Scarlet, the Governess of Purple. What Indigo did not know, was that under Yellow’s tangle of lies and deceit, Scarlet actually had a relationship with Yellow before he became a country wide hero. In his ignorance of this fact, Indigo tried to win Scarlet over, to favor him instead of Yellow and give him the title of city hero. Indigo did not want the country wide responsibility (like Yellow had), but he loved the city of Purple and therefore wanted to have the respect and burden of so many civilians upon his shoulders, and his alone.
It happened one night some time in the month of Grey, that the starling morning paper, Green Bugle, announced the Governess, Scarlet to be missing. It just so happened that Yellow, having just woken up from an exhausting adventure in the village of Orange; had picked up the paper at the same instant as Indigo. Indigo was pacing his apartment when his mail was spit out from his mail slot at the door, with the Green Bugle on top of the bundle. After dressing in both of their suits, Yellow a pair of basketball shorts and a muscle shirt, and Indigo an indigo t-shirt and black sweat pants; the hero’s hurried off to the Governess’ house at the center of the city. Upon reaching the graceful building, Indigo chose the back door and Yellow the front. Indigo sped through dark hallways and corridors and eventually reached the lobby, where he witnessed with a slight grin, Yellow being assaulted by scrambling reporters, desperate to know what he would do about the missing Governess. Indigo ducked under the caution tape and jogged up the marble staircase to find Scarlet’s office. Yellow managed to answer two questions and then sprinted after the man in the blue shirt and black sweat pants…
Once he picked the lock, Indigo walked into a trashed office. Clumps of chair stuffing were scattered around the thick carpet, a pair of fuchsia slippers were flung near the base of a long cherry wood desk. Indigo picked his way through the tipped over furniture and broken glass to behind the desk. Official looking papers were crumpled, half burned and ripped lie spread out on the surface, and just in the corner was a piece of wood…
Pulling it out from underneath the paper, Indigo beheld to his utter astonishment, an old photo of none other than, Yellow. There was a click; Indigo’s head snapped up to see an angry looking (but embarrassed) Yellow looking apprehensively at the cracked frame in his hands…



P.S Briana, you ought to have laughed at this one :D

Something New...

Here's something to look forward to!

Part 1 of the story of the: Riddle-Marrow Scandle:

On a chilly, moonless September night, the thin silhouette of the Riddle-Marrow estate's house keeper could've been seen, trudging up from the manor houses' smartly trimmed garden. The sinister, though blotted shadow of a pair of hedge clippers swung at the woman's side.
"Mrs. Brown?" a thin weedy voice called weakly from the mansion's back door.
"Coming Mr. Crowley, I was just clipping the hedges so it took a little longer to come running..." Mrs. Brown grumbled, tossing her heavy outside apron on the nearby servant's table, hanging the clippers by the door.
"I saw you... in fact, I've seen other gardener's do the same work, same pattern. But Lady Ella seems to think the symbol is attractive, so who can complain..." the old man sighed, filling his teakettle with water.
"And i can tell you, " Said Mrs. Brown, picking out a cigarette and lighting it, blowing off the smoking match, "That if you know what's healthy for you, you won't tell a soul..." she exhaled a puff off dense smoke and ran her dry tongue around her yellowing teeth,
"You haven't told anyone else about it have you?" her steel grey eyes softened just enough that one could detect a certain, particular fear behind them.
"Because it's not secret, I was just renewing the hedges because the gardener left early..." Mrs. Brown attempted to cover up, but the man was unbelieving.
"No, not a soul except you, tonight..." Mr. Crowley leaned back against the wide sink's side, his watery grey blue eyes kept flicking from the smoking woman and back at the door...
"I was wondering... do you need... shall I say, someone to spill the beans to? I've been around the place for more than a decade, and i still haven't found out the mystery of the symbol" Mrs. Brown's taught face seemed to turn uncharacteristically slack and then she said,
" No, but thank you for the thought" she got to her feet sharply and threw her cigarette in the ash tray,
"Goodnight Mr. Crowley" she swept from the kitchen, her face slightly concerned looking...
"Goodnight Mrs. Brown..." Mr. Crowley lifted his teapot away from the fire as it started to whistle.
"I'll figure her out sooner or later..." he muttered to himself as he settled down with a mug of strong tea. But little did old Mr. Crowley know, he would not 'figure her out sooner or later' at all. He would never figure anything out after the dawn of the new day...



Please comment your advice or feedback!

Something I Haven't Posted In Ages

What is it? *drum roll* A STORY:

"listen carefully" said the invisible man. His voice was deep and reassuring but something about it also made the hairs on the back of Jake's neck prickle with uncertainty.
"Hear and memorize these numbers..." it murmured. The darkness that filled the room seemed to press down on Jake's shoulders.
"two...seven...one...seven" the voice seemed muffled now,
this darkness is getting to me... thought Jake.
"Got it..." he muttered.
"Now go, don't tell the others..." the voice said, fading as if it was backing away.
"Who are you?" Jake called after the voice, knowing the response would be silence.
Suddenly a light clicked on; Jake blinked and looked around, blinded.
"Thank You" said the voice, and then it was gone for good.

there is some weird, random writing, kinda lame but.... :D please comment

What Happened?

Okay, so when I started my blog, I wanted it to be a website committed to writing, inspiration and books... clearly all that changed. Now, I think I'll make a little detour and post a short story I've been working on for a writing contest...


It was a dull grey and rainy afternoon, when a cloaked figure stepped out of a nearby telephone box and swept across the wide, glistening boulevard. The tall man disappeared into a local game room, with a flashy red sign that read,
THE CITY PLACE
Gambling rooms & Bar

The door’s bell sounded the arrival of a customer, despite the fact the door had stated that THE CITY PLACE was closed for business at the late hour.
“Who’s there?!” a grumpy, slurred voice croaked from behind a red door that was labeled,
PRIVATE ROOMS
“It’s just me, no one dangerous” a voice said, it came from the mouth of the man in the cloak. He had a black fedora hat pulled low over his glinting, blue eyes, and an ever present smirk that revealed a long, ugly scar running from his heavy brow to the left corner of his lips.
“Who are you?” the gambler called.
“A customer, a rich one” replied the man in the fedora. He shouldered his way through the door and slid onto the cushioned bench next to the gambler.
“Listen carefully, I need you to reserve an entire three card rooms, and one of these lovely spring nights for me…” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“But…. Who are you?” the greasy gambler asked once more, clutching a thick stack of bills to his chest with one, pudgy hand and with the other, gathering up poker chips…
“Doesn’t matter. You’re a smart man to ask, before answering… but then again your life is a tricky business… lots of cheats and liars.” The man in the fedora said, his ugly smile widened.
“But we can swap stories another time; Now, I have business to do with you. I want to throw a big party, an instant success that everyone will come to…”
“Throwing parties of the size you are suggesting is a dangerous and costly business Mister” the gambler replied sagely.
“Ah, yes, well… I need it to be like the one I have described to achieve the-… never mind,” the man shook his head and took a swig out of a nearby whisky bottle.
“What about a budget, list of guests, food preference and if you want everyone to come to this…party of yours you’re going to need flyers to paste around town…?” the gambler listed and threw his wad of money on the table to emphasize his point.
“Ah yes… I’ll send you the wanted guests and the date for the party, shall we start the budget at… twenty-thousand?” The greasy gambler raised his eyebrows as the shady character pulled out an expensive looking wallet. He wasn’t sure he liked the way he’d said, “Wanted guests”, but shaking those fanciful thoughts away, he listened to the man’s proposal.
“Bigger is better, as they say…” the man said as he stood.
“Give me an estimate of how much that money would cover and a secure date by tomorrow… Chestnut Avenue, the Telephone box?”
The gambler picked up a stack of cards and shuffled them absentmindedly. He obviously had banished all thoughts of suspicion as the cloaked man had presented him with some unexpected business.
“And what about the host for the night?” He said at length; the man in the fedora had moved toward the door.
“Oh, that’ll be me” the man replied, he was already halfway hidden behind the red door.
“Very well…” the gambler laid his cards down and resumed counting his day’s earnings. After he’d heard the door bell chime that the stranger had left, the gambler just happened to notice his whiskey bottle was gone…


It's a bit... dark? but hey, i got my main inspiration in the car!