| 12-01-2007, 10:02 PM | #1 |
There is no story nor plot, just this: The fog hung oppressively is the air. Leaves were strewn across the ground like bloody corpses strewn across a battlefield. There, amongst those corpses she lay in ecstasy, smiling, and laughing as she always had. However, a guilt plagued her, she had a conscience filled with pestilence, a never ending agony that would not let go, like a root in the ground. There, next to the scarlet-tinted oak, she lay in ecstasy, for no one knew her secret besides her own being. -Panda-  |
| 01-27-2008, 10:33 AM | #2 |
| 09-13-2008, 11:22 PM | #3 |