Who Dreams of Cut Flowers?_A Taste of Freedom_The Beast in the Dark_Wonderland Syndrome
Catalog Guide:
Who Dreams of Cut Flowers?
“Who dreams of cut flowers?”It felt like an idiot question that deserved an idiot answer. And at a time where the moon was especially bright, where its glow turned the usually dark diner into a paper lantern, Rainbow and I appeared particularly idiotic. Alone in a diner, charred fries, two greasy, untouched burgers and warm, denim-clad bodies who blabbered about dreams of cut flowers. “I dream about different ones on different nights.” I started, like the engines of cars that zoomed past. “Like last night, I dreamt of a rose, thorns cut and it was cut in half too.”The light played on Raiwww.onedoor.ccnbow’s...
A Taste of Freedom
Royal appearance to be made at the Annual Celebration of The Harvest to take place this Saturday - Including her Royal Highness Princess Genevieve – protocol is to be followed accordingly. Amelia was startled as she finished reading the flyer posted up in the middle of the main square of her village. Princess Genevieve had only been seen a handful of times by the villagers, it was rumoured that the royal family frowned on the young princess leaving the palace. Rumours had indeed spread throughout all the villages in the nation that this was due to a rare disease that the Princess had been born...
The Beast in the Dark
Ryan stood, frozen in place at the helm. His eyes locked on the monstruous figure lighted by the storm in the distance. The figure, though lit up by the flashes of lightning, was bathed in dark shadows like a curtain draped over it. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. He broke his gaze from the creature and looked around. Everyone was staring up with the same look he had. They all knew what it was, but no one was willing to say the name out loud. If they never uttered its name, maybe there would be a small chance that it would just go away. It was a foolhardy dream, but it was the ...
Wonderland Syndrome
Ahh how this moment brings me back, oddly enough, to a recurring dream, dreamt in odd concession at the exact time of two o'clock in the morning on the exact date of the second Tuesday of every month of my life since before I can remember. The events of this dream take place in front of what I first assume to be a church, but I gradually realize that there is no religion represented whatsoever, and it is not only clearly abandoned but now in complete and utter ruin, it's walls decay while the paint peels off of the crumbling and ominous towers that loom like dead mountains against the sky. The...