Untitled bottle ground fan ficDisclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne. Neither the bottle nor the ground belongs to me. THEY BELONG TO EACH OTHER YOU FOOLS!! CAN’T YOU SEE THEIR LOVE!?!Untitled bottle ground fan fic
Warnings: Slash, lemon, other mature stuff (hee hee hee). Author: Aravis Tarkheena Untitled bottle/ground fan fic The two stupid girls walked by heedless of the silent lovers gazing at each other just inches from where they passed. The bottle scoffed at them and their oblivion. The stupid humans who believed that only their species could be in love. But the bottle loved some one too. Some one who the bottle, despite the l
The Crayon BoxThe Crayon Box When I was younger I used to color in coloring books with crayons to relax. When ever I was stressed I got out my coloring books and my favorite box of Crayola crayons and I color for a few hours and then I’d feel fine. I was very protective of my crayons. I never let anyone use them but myself. I would yell at Gerry if he asked, afraid that he would break them. One day during my coloring kick I went to my friend Allison’s house. We hung out for a bit and decided that we wanted to go swimming. We had a pool at my house and I called my mom and asked her if Allison couldThe Crayon Box
No Title Yet“Can I read something to you?” The question was rhetorical, and she sat down on the floor cross-legged next to my chair. Nervous. Edgy. Clutching her book to her chest, her arms crossed over the back cover. It was plain brown and stained, and very small and thin. However she held it to her chest like it could protect her, or like she could protect it. It struck me then. She was me. She was me when I greatly dared and got the nerve to read something aloud that I’d written. She was exactly like me. Fucking me. I had a thousand things I’d rather be doing right noNo Title Yet
As I Watched From the BalconyAs I Watched From the Balcony I was standing on the balcony over my family room when it happened. I stood there and looked down on Baba sitting in my mother’s old blue leather armchair with the light from the sun pouring in through the huge windows we have in the living room. A car pulled up and Megan went to leave, to go to her friend’s house and leave ours. “How can you leave now?” Baba almost yelled. “Your father is dying!!” Then it happened, the only time I’ve ever heard someone yell at Baba. You never yell at your grandmother in my family, never, a good Slovak grandchildAs I Watched From the Balcony
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