Comments Posted By maria

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Godlike, he stood above her and looked down, smiling cruelly. “Well.” he said, “What have we here?”

“Oh, bug off.” she said, and spat at his feet.

The man’s expression did not change, though his eyes crinkled infintessimally. “‘Bug off?'” he repeated, “I am not familiar with that term.”

“It means go drop off the face of a mountain.” she said, and spat at his feet again.

“You’re going to dehydrate like that.” he noted.

» Posted By Maria On 07.01.2013 @ 7:44 pm


“Steady, now.” said Margya, holding on to Jan’s elbow. “Don’t fall.”

“I’m not going to –hic– fall.” he said, stumbling over his own feet in the darkness.

“Of course not.” she said drily, holding onto his elbow with a death grip.

“My elbow feels funny. Can’t feel my arm.” Jan said, and hiccupped again.

“That would not surprise me.” she said, and hissed at Ana to leave the cat alone and to get out of the way.

“But why’s it feel so weird?”

» Posted By Maria On 06.30.2013 @ 6:53 pm


In an instant she realized she’d done the wrong thing. Her gaze shot toward him, but he was out of sight, already following through with the plan she’d just realized would not work.

He was gone, out of sight, and she could not move or she’d wreck this even more.

The only thing to do was to wait, knuckles pressed to her mouth, and hope that he did not get seriously hurt.

Of course, stepping out to try and help would only result in pain and tragedy for both of them.

So Ana stayed behind the rock, and waited, and stayed there until the screaming had died down.

» Posted By Maria On 06.29.2013 @ 8:12 pm


With a smile, Yazmeen took the pig bladder and blew air into it until it was large, opaque, and buoyant. He tied the end off, then handed it to Bejameen. “Don’t pop it.” he said, “And share with your sister.”

Bejameen shrugged awkwardly with one shoulder, absorbed by the pig bladder.

“Throw it up.” said Emeli as she bent her head over her embroidery.

Bejameen threw the balloon up into the air.

» Posted By Maria On 06.28.2013 @ 9:10 pm


“So we’ll use you as a decoy.” said he.

Ana glared at him. “I refuse to be used as a decoy for bandits.” she said, “Why don’t you be the decoy?”

“BEcause,” he said, agonizingly cocky and sure of himself, “I am the man. You are the woman. No one will be expecting you to be able to whip out a knife and defend yourself.”

Ana snorted. “I am Nato. Anyone can tell just by looking at me. All the bandits will be expecting me to whip out a knife.”

» Posted By Maria On 06.27.2013 @ 6:44 pm


A beam of joy came to him from across the room, and as it came he caught his breath to stop it from flying away.

She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with joyousness, and he could feel it deep in the cavity of his lungs, expanding, growing, thrusting up through his throat out to his mouth, ready to escape into the world as a laugh, just as joyous as the smile in her eyes.

He awoke, briefly, from the dream, sitting up straight and breathing hard, frightened.

» Posted By Maria On 06.26.2013 @ 8:42 pm


Blamed. The mark of her shame was in front of her, for all to see should they take a second glance. It made her peer ahead to make certain she would not run into anyone likely to take their anger out on her. It made her glance behind in shadowy alleyways to make certain no one would attack her to make her feel the shame even more.

Blame. It hung heavy on her, because it was her fault that this had happened, her fault that she had not been careful.

» Posted By Maria On 06.25.2013 @ 7:47 pm


Joints creaked as he sat down on the bed. They helped him slump back on the pillows, and as he lay back on the pillows he looked at them, his children.

Jon, oldest, serious, watched him with quiet, sad eyes. Jæmæs, second, was frowning. Susun tried to keep the tears out of her eyes.

» Posted By Maria On 06.24.2013 @ 6:56 pm


At times he felt as uneven and tumultous as if he were on a pair of stilts for the first time. Tall, awkward, gangly, never knowing quite how to disappear. He’d always been forced onto the stilts.

Now, more then ever, as he looked into the girl’s face, he wondered how to get off them, how to melt into the background again, where he was comfortable and she couldn’t laugh at him.

Her breath stilted as she gazed up at him, and she searched madly for something, anything to say so that he wouldn’t turn away and find someone else to dance with.

» Posted By Maria On 06.23.2013 @ 7:25 pm


im listenikng to a song write now almost lover by a fine frenzy. thats wierd that this word would pop up when im doing this. holy shit. this is really fun. I like this song. it makes me happy and sad. love makes me sad.

» Posted By Maria On 06.22.2013 @ 3:55 pm


Feeling incomplete was probably something that he’d get used to, in time.

Strange, how one could get used to blood-curdling fights, and then miss them. He supposed it was something in his blood. RPobably inherited from some mysterious unknown relatiev.

He took another sip of the alcohol in his glass, choked slightly, and then took another sip.

Yes, very strange. He supposed if he lived to be ninety he’d never forget her. Of course she wouldn’t come after him, and he would never go after her.

» Posted By Maria On 06.21.2013 @ 7:49 pm


Shells doted the beach. Most of them were broken in pieces, most were not whole, but Adum looked at them and picked a few up, running his fingers over the smoothness.

They were beautiful, of course. Sometimes they reminded him of places he ought to be, the things that weighed down on him almost every day. He took it out in parties, because with people you didn’t know you could never fully be yourself, and when he slumped into his bed at night he was too exhausted to have regrets.

» Posted By Maria On 06.20.2013 @ 8:05 am


A tumble into the dark. That’s what it felt like. Not knowing, not knowing which decision to make.

Not being able to decide what would be best for all involved.

He stood up and walked to the window, looked down through the glass at the street. People walking past, not knowing that the world had just unraveled. Aratur turned because the quirking at the back of his neck would not stop.

The body lay in the bed, but somehow it was just as dangerous as it had been in life. Perhaps even more so.

» Posted By Maria On 06.18.2013 @ 7:39 pm


Pairs of scissors and pairs of paintbrushes, locked together with string and resin, were scattered about the room.

Susun looked around and smiled, faintly, as she looked at the room and the area.

“This,” she said, shaking her head, “Is ridiculous. Do you see what you’ve done, Sharal?”

Sharal looked idly around, though it did not seem as if he could see what he was looking at, and he shrugged. “It’s alright.” he said, “Anything else?”

“You haven’t eaten.”

» Posted By Maria On 06.17.2013 @ 6:56 pm


Strung up on a tree was a haunch of pig.

SIlas looked at it, then looked around.

It wasn’t really the haunch of a pig… a bit smaller, but just enough to take him as far as he needed to go.

Silas bent down.

He picked up a sharp rock, then, with it in one hand, climbed up the tree and cut the haunch down.

Once it was down, he stuffed it up his shirt and began to run.

He ran a long while, not really consciously, until his calves hurt and he could no longer breathe properly.

Then he ran some more.

» Posted By Maria On 06.16.2013 @ 7:08 pm


The edge of her sleeve just covered her wrist, protecting the delicate skin at the base of her palm from eyes.

He watched the place anyway, hoping the sleeve would slip up, and he’d be able to see the fine network of veins that branched inward and outward in amazing patterns.

The porcelain skin seemed to glow in the light, but she never looked at him, and the white sleeve never moved.

Sometimes, he wondered if it would ever move. It seemed fixed in place to her skin as if by pins.

» Posted By Maria On 06.15.2013 @ 6:59 pm


The map, I’d decided, was going to be 2000 pixels high by 4000 pixels wide.

It describes the world, which has no name, and has a nice character in that the sea is currently black and the continents are mostly red.

I have ocean currents and wind currents mostly figured out… all I need are the monsoon sections, but I don’t quite understand how to PLACE a monsoon location, because no one seems to know either.

But neither am I going to plop it down in the middle of the ocean, because that’s lazy.

» Posted By Maria On 06.14.2013 @ 8:36 pm


Wrath sometimes envelopped her when she thought of her marriage.

Now, she shrugged it off and laughed, “My husband?” she asked, grinning at her comrade, “He’s somewhere, off in the west, drinking, carousing… making in general, a fool of himself. his father said that.”

“What do you say?”

“he’s off in the west, drinking, carousing… making a fool of himself.”

He friend rubbed her shoulder.

Ægata smiled softly. “But such a fool!”

» Posted By Maria On 06.13.2013 @ 7:04 pm


No one could say that he’d fleed.

Though, if he stayed to consider it a bit longer, he had fled from his wife and her eyes and the way she wanted to know where he was every moment of the day. He had no idea why he’d married her, except that it had seemed the thing to do.

Now, miles and miles away, away from her sharp gaze, he felt as if she could still see him. Could still decide that the parties he was indulging in were not fior those of his ilk.

She was probably at home this moment, indulging in snobby parties.

» Posted By Maria On 06.12.2013 @ 6:55 pm


The body had decomposed enough to make the bones stand out on its face… the skull peered at her, grinning eerily.

But it had not decomposed enough to take away the gut-wrenching smell of decaying flesh.

Ægata looked at it, a long moment, then passed on, head held high, as she walked, becaus ethere was nothing she could do about the tattered clothing hanging from the child’s frame, because there was nothing she could say to its mother, because there was nothing she could tell the father to do, nothing she could do except walk on.

» Posted By Maria On 06.11.2013 @ 6:38 pm


He sat her down in a chair in front of his, then sat back and steepled his fingers, watching her quietly as she tried to find the words.

“Deep breath.” he ordered, as she opened and then closed her mouth.

She obeyed.

“Now, tell me what it is.”


“No need to be afraid.” he said, “I’m not going to hurt you, nor, if that’s what you’re thinking of, am I going to get angry.”

Her eyes met his.

» Posted By Maria On 06.10.2013 @ 2:38 pm


Fools, all of them. They sometimes went off to drink, coming back with stinking headaches. Adum was not a fool, and so when he went to drink, he drank sparingly…. unless he was feeling like a fool, in which case he drank everyone else under the table and then downed even more alcohol, just to make sure he’d have a headache so bad he’d swear never to drink ever again.

It could become addictive, drinking. Ægata had not contacted him in years.

» Posted By Maria On 06.09.2013 @ 6:33 pm


Undetected, she creeped through the night streets, guided only by the light of the moon. Went straight up to the door and knocked, long and loud, looking round to make sure no one came up to her in the night and asked her where she was going.

He opened the door, frowned, said, “what do you want? who are you?”

“I… I wish to talk to Mr. Jumison.” she said, hesitating.

“Come in, then.”

» Posted By Maria On 06.08.2013 @ 7:47 pm


Alarming… that was the word she was looking for.

It was rather alarming to be staring at one’s sister-in-law and one’s brother kissing as if he was going to war in a few minutes.

Not that Lija wanted to be stuck in a broom closet at this particular moment, staring at Susun and Jerej as they kissed. In fact, she’d rather be anywhere BUT here.

But… leaving the broom closet at this particular time would advertise the fact that she’d been in there for a reason… and as that reason was not flattering to her reputation, she didn’t wish to advertise it.

» Posted By Maria On 06.07.2013 @ 7:52 pm


When I think of montage I think of a collage of pictures, memories, friends, sentimentality. A collection of happy things.

» Posted By Maria On 06.07.2013 @ 6:51 am

She was everywhere.

In his head, in his heart, in his mind’s eye.

He could see her, sometimes, walking through the room, looking at the pictures of herself… turning round to point something wrong out.

When she did, he’d take the picture from the wall, from among the paintings in the montage, and fix the mistake. If it was unfixable (sometimes it was), he’d paint over the picture entirely… scrape the paint off the canvas and start again.

» Posted By Maria On 06.06.2013 @ 9:00 pm


Splashes of paint dotted the walls, but mostly it was filled with pictures. Paintings of a red headed woman, smiling, frowning, thinking, laughing, walking, talking… doing anything and everything. She sat in the sunlight, she stood in the shade, she gesticulated with one hand or ate an apple.

She was everywhere, all over the room… behind doors and underneath tables.

She was everything, on the ceiling and on the floor.

» Posted By Maria On 06.05.2013 @ 4:48 pm


“You are a crazy woman!”

“I am not crazy! I went to your club. You weren’t there.” she began ticking the places off on her fingers and he merely glared at her, arms clrossed over his chest, as she tried to prove his nonexistant infidelity to him, “I went to your other clubs, too. Not there. I went to every club where any of your friends meet. I went to the park. I went to the bakery where you sometimes stop. I even went to the flower shop you frequented while we were engaged. Not there. At all.”

» Posted By Maria On 06.04.2013 @ 2:41 pm


She pulled her shawl harder around herself and stepped around a puddle in the middle of the stret, hoping that she wouldn’t splash her bare legs with too much mud.

She looked right and left as she crossed the street, then tried to find the sign that would lead her to the place where Adrian Jamison lived.

At least, perhaps, he’d give her some money to stay at an inn while she tried to take in sewing in order to augment her minuscule earnings.

She knocked at his door.

» Posted By Maria On 06.03.2013 @ 4:45 pm

there’s a lot of homelless people, they dont have a home, nao têm com quem partilhar os penos momentos da vida . as vezes por escolha propria , porque se sentem mais livres , porque viver nas ras lhe da liberdade . outros crescem ja na rua e nao encontram a motiivaçao nem a oportunidade para sairem desta situaçao . .

» Posted By maria On 06.03.2013 @ 2:41 pm

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