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I knelt before her, my black hair the colour of my heart falling over my eyes slightly, the cold marble of the floor hard against my knee; I was used to the feeling now. Looking down at it, I was once again amazed by its intricacy. Its primary colour was the palest of blues, yet if you looked closely, you knew that this principal colour was made up of a thousand other shades. I smiled inwardly as I stood, awaiting her command, my cold, dark eyes watching her, willing her to give me the next order.
Although short, she could command a room with such fierce tenacity that she would appear a giant in front of the tallest man. A leader amongst leaders, and I was the knight at her side; to watch; to shield; and kill on demand.
Her throne was raised at least two feet from the ground, causing her to meet my eyes at the same level. She was beautiful in every way, flowing golden hair, sparkling emerald eyes; however, regardless of my feelings for her, I could never to
I sat in the cold, muddy puddle, the water making my fire-truck, red shorts dirty. The dark street was familiar to me, but the sounds were terrifying: a cat screeching as if I had stepped on its tail; a bin lid smashing to the ground like thunder; the noisy chatter of grown-ups passing by. I didn't understand what they were saying, it was as if they were aliens, speaking to each other in a language only they understood; like the ones I used to see on TV before Mummy
I wiped the tears from my eyes; it was my fault. Mummy hated me because I did something very naughty, I knew it. She had hit me because I hadn't worked hard enough in my Maths classes. Miss Taylor had lied to me telling me I was doing well. Liars are bad. Miss Taylor is bad. I will never go back to her class again.
I brought my knees up to my chin and hugged them close as I sometimes did with my teddy bear. I wondered if I squeezed them tight enough, would my feet go blue as my fingers do when I tie strin
Golden AngelsGolden Angels
As I sat at my laptop, I stared silently at the blank screen in front of me, the word document open; waiting. Waiting for me to begin to write; waiting for me to feed my family; waiting for me to become a man.
My wife died last year, and since then I have found myself unable to work. Everything I did, everywhere I went; every little thing reminded me of her. On many an occasion I found myself weeping in front of my children and they were forced to be my pillar of strength through my weakness. It hurt, and I felt less like a Father every time.
Turning my head, I looked through the patio to watch my two little girls playing in the spring breeze. They were beautiful, like two tiny angels dancing in the afternoon sun; invisible golden wings keeping them aloft as they chased after each other. Smiling, I found myself entranced by them; had I the choice I would simply watch them all day. My smile quickly vanished as I remembered that money was running dangerously low; the
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Endorell-Taelos is very well known within the community for her selfless giving and gracious community spirit. Since joining DeviantART over seven years ago, Alicia has continued to make a positive impact on many deviants. Her helpful and thoughtful approach was one of her finest attributes when serving as a Community Volunteer, and this has continued throughout the many contests which Alicia provides on a regular basis. As we approach our Birthday celebrations, we can't... Read More