Friday, June 17, 2011


Watch me draw an eye!

Another 5 Days Worth

They embraced at the train station. It had been two years– two long sufferable years and there she is again looking like the angel he remembered. If the weather wasn’t so overcast and dark, and the train wasn’t emitting eerie howls, the moment would have been quite a romantic one. Instead, it filled the both with a sense of foreboding. Both knew that this was illegal. Both could really cared less.

Station [The Market Spoiler]
With his hand clamped tight around mine, he pulled me through town with an eager smile on his face. “Where are we going?” I asked sharply. He gestured for me to be quiet and continued to tug my arm after him. Eventually, a shape rose from the horizon as we made out way past the city and into the bare land surrounding it. “A train station.” He whispered as a black strip along the ground focused into tracks and the building became distinctly prominent in the landscape; A mangled, overgrown clock continued it’s steady ticks from a nook above the main doors. I have never seen this place before- never even heard of it- and by the current deteriorating state of the loading dock and ticket windows and benches, neither had anyone else in our town.

Train [The Market Spoiler]
The train lolled to a stop not 50 feet from us. I could feel Oddie frozen at my side; his hand squeezing my tiny one till it was white and my fingertips were purpling. Thick billowing smoke rose high into the air as doors of the train carts slid open, screeching angrily. A flood of a hundred, one-hundred-fifty, two hundred and counting soldiers clad in black from head to toe spread out from the train like a nasty oil spill; they stretched and yawned and scratched their stomachs indignantly. Suddenly, I’m being yanked, and Oddie is running and dragging me from the train station with a look of utter terror on his face. I don’t understand it, but I don’t need to. I run with him.

Smile (Totally went past the 1-minute mark on this one.)
Midst the hustle and bustle of people on the streets, I make my way with my head down, a dark curtain of hair veiling my face from the world and its prying eyes. A group of teens to my left walk by briskly laughing and passing a cell phone around with glee. Thoughts storm around my head; memories, no less, and unpleasant ones from my highschool years. A couple across the street smothers each other in eskimo kisses and I think to myself, “I’ve never been given an eskimo kiss.” The sky is a deep grey and mounds of black and purple clouds bank on the east. A fork of lightning cuts across the sky illuminating my destination. A bridge. The sooner I get there the better and then it will all be over and the pain will stop for good. My steps splash across the street and in my nerves and anticipation, I don’t notice the man in front me until we collide and we’re both sprawled into two oily puddles. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I hurry out but he lifts his hand to stop my mutterings. He picks up his satchel and smiles at me warmly before helping me to my feet and strolling away without a word. My eyes follow his handsome figure for some time until its lost in the sea of people. I think, “Maybe, I’ll just go home.”

Day on day I wonder why she is so abstract. Why she constantly fixes me with a look as if I’m a rare specimen she’s analyzing. I wonder why she is so damn perfect in her abundant flaws. She’s an artist– an artist with the talent of a million Picasos and then some. She studies me with smug fondness and a little bit of muffled mirth; not until I peak over her shoulder do I realize with a flattering start that she is drawing me. It’s really a wonder that I don’t smother her till both are breaths leave us for good at the very moment.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

5 Days Worth

Here are the first fives days worth of Onewords I've done. I have one minute to write these.

The street corner was lit by a lone street lamp, illuminating the concrete in a circle of yellow-y light. A woman stood in center of it proudly, as if on a stage, yet her fair features were muddled in dark shadows.

Immediately I think, “This teacher has got to be insane.” The lady has a curly mane of pea green hair and plump purple lips. She wears a tie-dyed dress, covered with little plastic dragons that look to have been shoddily super glued to the fabric, that fits her- ahem- curves in a rather unfortunate manner.

She rose from the sea in the night, her black hair cascading down her slender frame in long, damp, curling trendals adorned with molesks and shells. She spotted the boat in the distance, and her flawless lips curved up in a sardonic smile knowing exactly what she was about to do and caring none about its repercussions. She opened her mouth and out burst the most beautiful song ever heard to human ears. She could tell immediately that the sailors could hear her because the boat had silenced, and really, they always hear. The Siren’s Song would always be heard by the unsuspecting and they always come running. She chuckled delicately and continued to sing.

“Ah, yes, well you see, Mrs. Tutsufreeny, your husband was in the coffin when he was put up on the platform– yes, yes, I can assure you he was perfectly fine– Hm, what was that? Gone? Well, I promise that he is– No, that’s nonsense– Ma’am, dead men don’t go just strolling from their coffins willly nilly– no ma’am, I am not mocking you– n-no ma’am, I never once called you a liar– Please, ma– OUCH!”

She’s an angel. With golden blonde curls and milky smooth skin doused in golden flicks streaming in from the window of the train cart, the dawning sun just visible at the pink horizon. He doesn’t know why she had taken a liking to him. Not that he minds. But her father minds– the army of men marching around the perimeter of the train do– her friends and family back home do. But maybe if they knew how beloved she were to him, how much he adored this angelic Charlotte, maybe they wouldn’t kill him on the spot.
( Spoiler Alert ;) Hint, hint)

And who is this, you may ask? Well, this is Seally from The Market. Never would I think that I would find such a perfect visual of her but here you are!

Disclaimer: Please Read

I do not own ANY of the pictures I use on my blog (except for the ones of me or unless I specify that I have, indeed, drawn them). I have just started to get sources, so the next pictures (excluding gifs) will have a source or credit. I give all credit to the wonderful artists out there who have created the images I use.