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[Oct. 17th, 2010 @ 09:13 pm ] |
Meredith is stumped when the little girl dashes into the kitchen and clambers onto a tall stool and then stands on the table. Her eyes are wide, and for an instant the woman sees a flicker of true fear in them when the child looks at her. Then the moment is gone, but a long minute goes by before Marjorie climbs down.
"I'm hungry..."
Nevermind Spots. Marjorie has just decided she does not like dogs. |
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[Mar. 31st, 2010 @ 02:47 pm ] |
| [ | Tags | | | khaos | ] |
| [ | Feeling |
| | creative | ] |
mon·ster
[Middle English monstre, from Old French, from Latin monstrum, portent, monster, from monstre, to warn; (...)]
A divine message of the Lord, a miraculous sign for the flock.
How fitting. |
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[Mar. 9th, 2010 @ 06:17 pm ] |
Oopsie! The look on daddy's face when he saw that one!
Always hate to finish early. But it couldn't last any longer, no, not after he made all the little connections all in his little squishy brain. At least it was a funny afternoon.
Mommy, come home, please? Daddy and brother are awaiting you in the living room. But the little girl had to hop and skip like a frog-rabbit to... somewhere else! No address now, no silly papers. I count one thousand four hundred and ninety three papercuts on Daddy, but just seven hundred and twenty eight on little angel brother...
Who ruined all my game?
Hop and skip, hop and skip, far far away. |
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[Jan. 13th, 2010 @ 11:17 pm ] |
The winter! Such a delightful time to tuck your baby girl in bed, tell her a ghost story and, when she clings to you in fear, soothe all her worries away with a kiss and a whisper of a promise.
Oh, Papa. Don't you know that all the ghosts are inside your head, but all the monsters are real? Don't look under the bed, I scared them all away. The room is big enough just for one of us, and I got the bed all for myself. I want it to be mine. But I can be a nice, playful girl and let you join me, Papa. If you want, we can snuggle and be comfy and warm and wiggle our toes and keep the monsters at bay together.
Now, about the ghosts inside your head... |
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[Nov. 17th, 2009 @ 09:56 am ] |
The blessed irony. Or should I say cursed, I wonder? Break apart and join again, and a bounty to be claimed.
Love, they call it - is it really, now?
I feel the urge to laugh. A rose is a rose is a rose, but I know a different touch. |
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[Nov. 6th, 2009 @ 07:22 am ] |
It's Friday. How did that song go again?
Up early, the little cat needs to stretch her muscles. Perhaps bat at some birds in the process, if she doesn't rip off her own fairy wings in the process. With a multitude of eyes one sees better and worse. Faceted jewels mirror reality in fragmented chaos, and a tiny brain understands them better than the waves of the intricate, disjointed human mind. When the wings flutter and stretch, a shower of gold and silver falls to the ground below, covering everything in what it's not.
Look at her, twisting and turning after some invisible prey. They see more than we do. Faint strings, unnoticed by the eye, yet there all the same.
Tug, twist, pull. Don't break it, oh no, not yet. Can you see the gingerbread house in the clearing, my dear? |
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[Oct. 1st, 2009 @ 04:38 am ] |
Thank you, Cassie and MorphThing! There goes another sleepless night.
( Here be babies. ) |
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| Solitary Ground |
[Sep. 24th, 2009 @ 04:49 am ] |
Loneliness and frustration are a part of it all, if one altogether too used for comfort.
There's nothing wrong with streetwalking. Much the contrary, especially when.
( Private ) |
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[Sep. 18th, 2009 @ 11:06 am ] |
Catherine, Anne, Jane, Anne, Catherine, Catherine, Mary, Bessie... I miss you so, my beautiful sweet girls. Gentle petals of the same bud, and what delightful thorns to crown your brows.
That was invigorating. |
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[Aug. 24th, 2009 @ 02:58 pm ] |
Tatter him, tear him to rags, bleeding and singing. Talon, claw, fang, thorn. He weeps for more, kneels down for it, while it ebbs out of him.
Lie back, watch, burn the bridges the letters the words. Because it's either that or falling over, desperate, taking his place instead, because it's Monday and the week is just starting. Denial denial denial darkness and mourning. |
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[Aug. 23rd, 2009 @ 12:03 pm ] |
He didn't understand. They never do, after all. The hours ticked by, and the phone didn't ring. Anymore. A no is a no, because it's Sunday. The days pass and the week is always over and new again.
Zion tonight, to weep and to mourn and to rejoice and to dance. |
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[Jul. 28th, 2009 @ 12:09 am ] |
This is most delightful. |
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[Jul. 7th, 2009 @ 09:17 am ] |
Here comes a candle to light you to bed...
Cousin James, it is such a delight to have you here in the city! And here I thought my whole family was gone. Such a joy to be reunited with your uncle's baby daughter, isn't it? Poor girl, wandered lost, in shock, for so long...
...and here comes a chopper to chop off your head. |
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| Blood will tell... |
[Jul. 6th, 2009 @ 07:14 pm ] |
...but often it tells too much.
Oops. :) |
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[Jul. 2nd, 2009 @ 06:53 pm ] |
A toast? Yeah. To high treason.
We watched National Treasure one night, almost a year ago. Thomas was curled up against me, and I don't think Daddy saw what he was trying to do. I have... fond memories of that night, with me and my little brother. The Farrell family was so happy, back then. All so very joyful and cuddly.
Happy (early) birthday, America. |
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[Jun. 23rd, 2009 @ 10:34 am ] |
[visible to all angels (Fallen included) and to the Princes of Hell]
My Lord is most gracious and kind. I will wait for his return with patient reverence, and use the time he has given me to meditate on my faults. I seek the purging of my sins, of the heretical thoughts assaulting my mind. Through his grace, I can hope to achieve absolution. Knowing that, in my sinful condition, my Master is willing to guide my cleansing is an honor I am not worthy of.
My acts are tainted and soiled; until he summons me, I shall refrain from my blessed work, for I do not desire to subject others to the impurity that corrodes me.
[public, mortals included]
Glory to the Lord of the Morning, praise to the Bright Son of the Dawn. Mighty is his light, bright his word, undeniable his will. My path is clear through him, and I do not fear the valley of darkness.
( Private ) |
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[Jun. 22nd, 2009 @ 07:52 am ] |
"Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,
Entangled him by that fair form, from me
Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:
Love, that denial takes from none beloved,
Caught me with pleasing him so passing well,
That, as thou seest, he yet deserts me not.
Love brought us to one death: Caïna waits
The soul, who spilt our life."
Francesca Da Polenta, Canto V, The Divine Comedy
The second circle, a fault that does not aggrieve the Father as much as others, and yet they are as damned as those bound deeper. I merely perform my alloted task, to bring their basic instincts to the light of day. In being carved at His image, they are faulted - I tap only on what is already there, they condemn themselves, not I, for I am but a vessel to His love.
His love and free will. What a wonderful pairing they make, they shine so brightly in my arms.
( Private )
( Lucifer ) |
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[Jun. 21st, 2009 @ 11:08 pm ] |
Father's Day, it seems. It is sometimes a pity that Mr Farrell is no longer among us. Little Mary Anne Farrell, 10, would have quite fun presenting her father with a proper Father's Day gift, the kind that would curl Mrs Farrell's toes... and perhaps cause little Thomas to pine a little more for his little sister with those lovely golden locks of hair.
Mommy, Daddy, dear bro - Mary Anne says hi. I hope you are enjoying your delightful time in hell, for I am rather enjoying my time up here. It is almost poetic. |
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[Jun. 14th, 2009 @ 09:29 pm ] |
Heaven's reject, you say? I think someone would benefit from a little more knowledge of how things went down. |
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