Newest
Page BlankTo work with a blank canvas is to have potential. To work with a blank canvas is to be haunted. Starting fresh is unlimited with what you can do. Starting fresh is to be limited by what you can do. Staring at that blank slate, those facts staring back. It’s frightening; like staring into an abyss. Precariously balance to fall, never to return. But with tools of the craft in hand, you can climb out. Tasting the sunlight never felt so wonderful, It’s a feeling that you can only experience from starting new.Page Blank
by ~Kidcorona
Evenings On The LakeLying on a chaise lounge with a book and the dogs on the floor, she heard the distant rumble, followed by a short growl from a dog. She took a sip of coffee, and resumed reading her book. Again a rumble and a growl, this time she walked out to the deck and looked up at the clouds. The storm was coming in fast; soon she would have to close the doors. The rain would be a welcome break from the day’s heat. Walking back to her coffee cup, she took it to fill it again. Pouring the coffee and sugar, she heard the rain starting. Setting her cup on the table next to the lounge, she walked out on the deck. Letting the rain fall on her bare body,Evenings On The Lake
by ~Kidcorona
Mornings On The LakePaddling down the river, the cool air brushed against her bare skin. Gliding through the water in her canoe, her hand dropped from the canoe. The water was cool. The ripples lapping at the canoe were breaking around her fingers dangling over the side. The strokes of the paddle making the boat surge its way through the water with every push. Her shoulders were rolling with every stroke. Her back was flexing with every side change. Hair hanging around her neck; she brushed it away when it tickled her breast, the crisp autumn breeze made her nipples tense. Falling leaves landed in her lap, as if they were gifts from the sky. She brushed them awaMornings On The Lake
by ~Kidcorona
Random Favourites
Single. “Hello?” “Hey, Ma.” “Hey Sterl. Well, how are you?”Single.
Weekly telephone conversations with my parents always begin with this innocent exchange of pleasantry, but inevitably devolve into the subject of my personal doom. In between discussing critical topics such as my crackhead neighbors and what groceries I bought this weekend, my mother drops subtle reminders that after three decades of existence, I haven’t produced any grandchildren for her and Dad:
“So are you seeing anybody?” “No, Ma,” I warily respond. After a brief pause, momentarily considering my steadfast refus
by `tangledweb
Watchers
Let's try something new...
PleaseddeviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Favourite poet or writer: Do backs of Doritos bags count?
- Shell of choice: Tank
- Favourite gaming platform: The one that has all of the good games.
deviantART Community Board
Comments
Site Map
©2009 deviantART. All rights reserved
--
"The truth is you could slit my throat and with my one last gasping breath I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt."
Check out the Nature Club. It rocks! [link]
--
=Apophysis *Tubaholics-Anonymous =dATranslators
--
--
Eryck Webb
Comic Art Commissions
Shop: [link]
Gallery: [link]
Graphic Design
Portfolio: [link]
--
I eat babies! NUFF' SAID!
--
STUPID = Smart Talented Unique Person In Demand
Previous Page12Next Page