[21:38] <MalkyTop> I'm not good at writing bad. | [13:12] <Shellghost> I can't tell if I'm crying or if my eyes came.
She made it very clear, just by opening her mouth to speak, that she was not a mere damsel, that she was a woman. And that she was a person above all.
She was what you would draw if someone asked you to draw a lady, but her bony cold hands were an old man's. Fists that were used to clenching.
I went home immediately after talking to her, and fell asleep soon after, concluding that if we were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.
He puffed once, twice, from his cigar, and fluttered its ashes over the balcony railing. Still singeing, they danced around against the nightly cityscape.