xiavanna
He stared at the timeline in front of him, tracing his fingers along the interconnecting lines that made up the history of his people. Each important date was shown, and noted to make a full history of the Gods. It was miles long, but the section in front of him was just a fraction of it, inked into the fibers of thick parchment.
Time was a long, boring thing to watch, and for some it was all they could experience. The duration of all things, for some, was a way of life. One that couldn't be changed, or tainted by anything else.
There was a clue about their location as soon as they opened the door and looked around curiously; there was a pale blue napkin with the name of a restaurant scrawled in golden print on a corner; they were home even if they didn't realize it.
The festival was in full swing by the time she got there. The lights, the sounds, the smells. It all reminded her of the days before; when things were easier and there was such a thing as freedom outside this quiet, sad corner of her mind. She wished those days had never faded.
He adopted the saying without even thinking about it; he just started using it one day and he had no idea when, or how to go about stopping. See, the thing is, he loved the man that used it first, but he himself shouldn't use it. It was blasphemy, and mildly insulting towards himself.
The butterfly landed on the leaves not far from her head; red and black . It was enticing in ways she didn't understand, she wanted to get up and touch it, cradle it against her chest and keep it. But she couldn't, because she was dead, and the butterfly was a sign of the Reaper.
There was a hinge on the gate that squeaked whenever someone walked through it, and it sent shivers down her spine like ice. So many bad memories, how many times had that gate opened and then she'd been hurt?
There was an old fence on the edge of her property, it sat old and damaged; but it had never seemed like it needed to be fixed. There was nothing, and no one around to see it anyway; so why waste the effort when she could use the same time to better herself, instead of the world around her.
The lilies sat on the water, calm and peaceful; like the clouds sat in the sky.
They offered a sense of peace, and of innocence that made the girl shiver all the way down to her toes. It was hard to believe that something so innocent remained in a world ravaged by bloodshed.
Love was like oil.
Thick, greasy and it clung to you even though you tried to wash it off and free yourself from that pain. It lingered on even once it appeared to be gone, and it made you choke when you went near the flame of a new life.
Love was like oil, and I was surrounded by water.