fallen-angel93

Hope is an illusion; Tailored by optimists, Bolstered by the media, And held in every person's heart. I'd given up; Thought I wasn't secretly, Hoping that by some small chance, That I'd be able to go. Imagine my surprise when To my delight, I was invited along And I had a chance to see him. Suddenly that foolish emotion Hope, that some say is a flower (more like a weed in my opinion) Took root in my heart. The entire day I was happy Delighted, giddy even, With the thought that I could Hold him, touch him, see him. Oh, curse that foolish emotion For that night, I got the news that they were going A different day, when

 "Just a normal day, a normal day at work." I said to myself, singing along with Avenged Sevenfold. I was at my work, sweeping the dining room. Liz floated/walked behind me as usual, swirling, twirling, and dancing to the music. As a part of me, she loves music just as much or even more than me. She lets the music penetrate deep into her being, and lets it express itself through dance. Only once or twice had she managed to completely take control over my body and get me to dance. And when that had happened, and I actually danced…it was almost like I had become a different person. Like dancing let all my stresses just float away on a purple wi

Never forget a promise. I was walking home one beautiful day. The sun lightly hugged the earth and the clouds played across the summer sky. I had not walked far until something caught the apple in my eye. It was a flower, and a beautiful flower at that. A flower that was hidden in a shady corner of an old broken house, it was a promise flower. It was stuck in an old flower basket, probably by some old woman many years back and then forgotten. It was a sight to see, every petal, every leaf perfect, but surrounding this promise were a myriad of weeds, each wanting to soak up every last drop of water that happened to fall in this little old bas

In, out. In between the strings. I pulled the yarn through, finishing another row of weaving, Liz looking over my shoulder. "Whatcha doing, Marty?" She asked. "I'm making a life blanket. See these different colors of yarn?" She nodded, trying to touch them to feel the texture, but her hand ghosted through them as usual. "They represent all the different people in my life. This yellow one is Mom, the light blue is Dad, and this brown and blue one is German." "So where's mine?" She asked, her eyes slowly traveling from color to color. "Here's yours." I pointed to a patch of weaving at the very beginning of the blanket. It was light gr

Inception The original ending is a cliffhanger. Cobb opened his eyes slowly and looked around the cab. The entire team was smiling at him, grinning almost satisfied smirks at a job well done. His eyes fell on Sado, and his gaze turned into a glare of accusation as he and the other man remembered the promise that had been made. Sado stared back for a minute, remembered, and picked up the airplane phone, and dialed. Cobb settled back into his chair, and his face was one of contemplation. "Could this really truly all be happening?" He thought wonderingly. "Am I really on my way back to the states, to my children after all that has happened?"