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Ana and Ema (preveiw)My mother taught me how to lie. That's all she did, if she ever did anything else. When I was younger, she used to joke to my sister Ema and I, that we could lie before we could walk. That was the reason the pair of us were sitting across a table from the head officer and his wife having Sunday dinner. While Mama had gotten off with four days and nights in prison, us being minors had been sent straight to the sheriffs house.
The moment we stepped foot into the Smith’s house, Mrs. Smith had stared us down with a look that could only be classified as disappointment.
"I can't believe the way you two have been living!" She said through sips of tea. I had been staring at my tea in pure concentration, not wanting to even dare drink from it. Ema on the other hand, had quickly drained the tea and was helping herself to another cup. Because in her eyes, manners always came first no matter the circumstances. After taking some long sips from her tea cup Mrs. Smith turned to face us,
Solitude. She sits there on the couch with her long legs spread out, her skirt cascading around her. She sits there staring into thin air. Her face is vacant. Her big blue eyes normally filled with life seem dead, her face usually flushed pink is ghostly pale and her blonde her on any normal day frizzy hangs flat on her head. She sits there and she thinks. She thinks about the days of solitude. The days when all she had was herself. When she would walk into the woods and get lost. Or when she would sit on the rocking chair and talk to the ghosts, then she thinks about when she met him. How quietly he came into her life. How they decided to share their solitude together because it made it easier to bare. She thinks about how he left, almost as quietly as he came. She sighs as she thinks about all this. These are the sad thoughts, she's not supposed to remember them. Yet everyday she does. She stands up slowly, her blue eyes glancing around the room. Anywhere but her left arm which, is
The Volcano Within Us.Anger,
It’s like a volcano
That’s inside each and every one of us.
It bubbles and gurgles,
Waiting to explode, wanting to explode.
But you won’t let it.
You’re not ready for the aftermath.
Someone has let the lava lose.
Something has let the lava out.
Soon it starts to flow through the valley,
Damaging and hurting everything in its way.
All that’s left when it’s done,
Is the clean-up.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More