

FirefightingI wiped the sweat from my face while trembling as I started to buckle under the dead weight of the ladder. I inhaled sharply, but all I could smell was the heavy stench of fire and smoke. There are ups and downs to being a firefighter, and I was experiencing both (perhaps more of one than the other). It was the summer of 2003, and I was diving head first into my basic training course in order to be a full member of my fire department. I was also the only girl participating in this course, so needless to say I got a little extra attention at times. My father was, and still is a firefighter. At that time I believe he wasFirefighting


RevengeIt was all a sleepy dream, dazed white hot and glowing like a soft, pulsing light. I could feel my feet planted firmly on the ground, cushioned by the liquid green summer grass, soft and cheery like I could always remember as a kid. Or was I a kid now? I couldn’t decide. I had a jar in my hand, cold and shiny, a rusty top to accompany the encasing glass tank. My palms grew sweaty as I squeezed around the jar, searching intently for my prey. I came to a small garden, and I stopped to peer down at the neatly kept mass, humming with lush vegetation. My vision started going from fuzzy to acutely sharp, the sound of chirpinRevenge


Setting SunFlicking flashes over flesh. Tearing, burning, shearing. rage. fire. fuck it. sloppy spills, a warm oozing trickleSetting Sun
sticks to thin blonde bristles, pooling casually.
Life flows, gasps, desperate for meaning, finds nothing to which to cling. it slides down easy pink trenches, sickeningly sticky in its solemn wake.
scarlet twines around pale fingers finding refuge in sweat-soaked bedsheets. a faint shimmer dances across fading life, the passing glow of the setting sun.
My eye
zero
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-Your friendly neighbourhood Stage Manager/Dominatrix/Photographer
Love & Music...They are Forever.
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"life was a funny thing that occured on the way to the grave"
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