The BoxThe BoxThe Box
The woman stroked the bread box with an air of fascinated horror. Thunder rumbled overhead and the rain clattered down on the tin roof. The woman went to turn away from the box, but her gaze was once again forced to return. Her eyes lingered over the box’s smooth wooden sides, splashed with droplets of red paint. It had been twenty years. Twenty dream filled years. Shed had come back. She had to, the box lured her. She remembered: her paint splattered cargo pants and loose shirt. Her hands that were more used to holding a paintbrush than a child. It wouldn’t stop crying. She could not concentrate. Its cr
gallerynya bagus2 logh
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nikah sama bule
bisnis pulsa elektrik
lowongan kerja terbaru
hey!!! bonnie!!!! haven't talked to you in a while! how are you?!
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"Anyone who doesn't appreciate poetry, doesn't understand that it's all about seduction."
oh gosh.. i miss you
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from my gallery: Pool of Dreams | Snowy Peeks | Forever Forsaken
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Real eyes, realize, real lies
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Beauty is Pain!
conversation scared you.
~becca
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"For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror we can just barely endure, and we admire it so because is calmly disdains to destroy us." -Rainer Maria Rilke
laters
josh
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Never let reality pierce your fantasy
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