Friday, September 19, 2003
It's not fair that people are leaving.Damn. You aren't allowed to grow up.
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
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"Wombat..."
Her feathers were all in a ruffle that cold, dreary day in July. Ever since that last breeze. Maybe they would never get straight. Maybe she would a have to live like that forever. These thought drove her crazy. They plagued her like a flea on a kittens nose.
But that's when he stepped in.
She never did like that type. stooped and rotund. Yet there was a soft aura about him. Maybe it was the fur, maybe it was love at first sight, or maybe it was the feathers that had blown into her eyes, but she was speechless.
Wombat. He was perfect. Like a cucumber and cactus juice, they were meant to be together.
...
He came out of the shade of the trees, squinting and preening his fur. Who was that? Oh, that leggy chick. She was a nice catch but Ostrich was never really a special on his menu. He loved overcast days where he could take a walk and embrace the freedom of the great outdoors. Well whatever freedom he could grasp in the cage that was his little world. Luckilly he didnt have a lot of interest in long walks. Whyever was she staring at him like that? or maybe she was just watching her tail. It was hard to tell when she was all twisted up in her own feathers like that.
...
The plunger wasn't much of a sword, but then again he wasn't much of a swordsman. He had, however, gotten pretty handy with it. Seth held his weapon of choice menacingly and looked at himself in the mirror. Great. A vertically challenged Menagerie janitor welding the public plunger. Really terrifying.
And I will write more later. I promise. Kinda.
