Tommy-Louise (joined over 13 years ago)
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The loud chick in the corner.

With the big eyes.

And the notebook in her bag.

Stories


She stood waiting by the binoculars. How sappily romantic was that? She shook her head at her own ridiculousness.

To distract herself, she gazed out across the city. The beautiful city she called home.

From here, everything was so clear and straight. The roads looked easy to navigate, like one could never get lost.

She had moved to this city four years ago. Following a dream, a memory. Some how she had stumbled upon him. And he was, real.

He was also no where to be seen.

She looked down at her wrist for the watch she didn't wear anymore,...

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They were listening.
That simple realisation caught her offguard, her breath temporarily stuck in her throat and she felt, just for a moment, her strength falter.
But the feeling passed quickly because of course they were listening, they were her friends, they had held her up when she was too drunk to walk in a straight line, pushed her hair back from her forehead when she cried and hugged her with glee everytime that they saw her. They loved her, of course they were there, listening as she conquered her fear of singing in public.
It wasn't that they had...

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They had only met a through days ago through the happy coincidence that they were staying at the same hotel on the same island at the same time. They had met at a bar, neither their friends back home would be surprised by that fact, and had become fast friends.

Gloria was twenty-one, a full time secretary who was travelling alone, just needing to escape the soap opera of a life she had back home.

Mallory was a second year student, on holiday with her mother, step-father and three much younger half-siblings. She had been relieved to find a kindred...

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The sound reverberated through the streets. The sound of the mob on the move. Fear clouded her mind and she acted on pure instinct, she had nothing else to work with. She ran.

Had she been able to think clearly, she would have been surprised about her instinct to run, always considering herself much more of a fighter, but run she did.

Down alleys, through gaps in fences, turning often, doing everything in her power to escape them. Everything but use the gift, the curse for which they were hunting her.

She had been hiding her abilities for so long...

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Vanquished, that was how they wanted me to feel as I knelt there on the cold flagstone, my head bowed, my hands clasped.

I could hear the echoes of the crowd marching up the street and knew that they would be upon me soon, their torches ablaze, their spirits hungry for blood.

I was to be renounced as a witch, that most reviled of creatures.

My fate was no longer in my hands, I was to surrender that along with my freedom and my life when the mob broke into my sanctuary.

Because I had dared too love too much,...

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This dream was better than waking.

In this dream, she lay next to him, fingers entwined talking about school, family, tv shows, the universe - they were creating inside jokes, they were getting to know each other and they were having fun.

In reality, she was hours away from him.

In this dream, he smiled at her and reached for her hand.

In reality, he had avoided making physical contact, eye contact, even making contact via phone.

In this dream, they fell into each other and fit perfectly.

In reality, the jigsaw pieces felt scattered and she had no idea...

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I looked through my photo album, my fingers flipping the pages quickly, as I looked for that one photo.
There it was, towards the back.
I stopped and smiled.
I could still hear my voice demanding to have this photograph taken.
A woman stood to my right. Her smile shining with pride as her hand held mine. She had always been there for me. Almost as far back as I could remember now. I often thought of her as the source of my conscience because she always seemed to give advice that pointed to the moral north, but at the...

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It was all good and well having a goal in life. Knowing your purpose.
He had known his for years, he had worked tirelessly day in, day out, for fifteen years, putting his dominoes in place so that he would be able to topple them at the exact moment.
But everyone needs a day off.

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She didn't look at him as she gingerly opened the sketchbook he had laid in front of her. Carefully schooling her face into it's most neutral expression, just in case she didn't like what she saw.

She needn't have worried.

For as she opened the book and began to gaze over the imagery, the concepts, the scribbled annotations that sounded like he had been talking to himself as he wrote them, she became lost in the world he was describing.

She could feel him tense next to her. She understood that, by being shown his work it was like she...

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She'd have preferred The Electric Chair to be the name of the band. But she was out voted by the drummer and the bassist who wanted The Hanged Man.

What, did they want to give the impression that they were unable to spell? She had asked on numerous occasions. But none have them had understood what she was saying.

Well, the guitarist had, but Jeff had wanted the band to be called The Rainbow Rogues so he didn't really count.

They had been a band for about six months and had yet to unanimously agree on anything.

They hadn't been...

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