The view outside the diner window showed the town in a Christmas rush. Everyone hustled about looking for that last minute gift or hard to find toy. Maybe the woman who forgot to take off her apron on the corner has to replace her pie, since Fido decided dessert should come first.
He said she said was feeling dizzy as she stepped closer to the ledge of the cliff capturing an even better view. It was too late…she slipped and fell to her death.
The view from here is nice. I’m watching Harry Potter part 1, while there is a large window to my right. Outside it’s a beautiful day. Sunny, with snow on the ground. Most of the trees are bare but that has a certain beauty. I can’t really complain about life when I look outside.
the view from her saturday evening window was, in a word, fabulous. sparkling lights shone their way through the clear night sky, piercing the reflection of mossy eyes with uncanny clarity; the busy sidewalks were lit up with shoppers and workers, ringing laughter reaching her ears even through panes of glass and miles of layers of unknown. and in her own home, her own city, a brief smile flickered across her face as the closed the curtains and faced the light of her own life.
The picture windows sparkled in the streetlights. Her father was slumped against the window, hands entwined with a family friends.
“Its all over, sturgis, its all over.”
The view outside the diner window showed the town in a Christmas rush. Everyone hustled about looking for that last minute gift or hard to find toy. Maybe the woman who forgot to take off her apron on the corner has to replace her pie, since Fido decided dessert should come first.
He said she said was feeling dizzy as she stepped closer to the ledge of the cliff capturing an even better view. It was too late…she slipped and fell to her death.
The view from here is nice. I’m watching Harry Potter part 1, while there is a large window to my right. Outside it’s a beautiful day. Sunny, with snow on the ground. Most of the trees are bare but that has a certain beauty. I can’t really complain about life when I look outside.
It’s hard to say you’re sorry, or that you understand when you won’t even try to view the things from where I stand.
the view from her saturday evening window was, in a word, fabulous. sparkling lights shone their way through the clear night sky, piercing the reflection of mossy eyes with uncanny clarity; the busy sidewalks were lit up with shoppers and workers, ringing laughter reaching her ears even through panes of glass and miles of layers of unknown. and in her own home, her own city, a brief smile flickered across her face as the closed the curtains and faced the light of her own life.
The picture windows sparkled in the streetlights. Her father was slumped against the window, hands entwined with a family friends.
“Its all over, sturgis, its all over.”