the room was wet when we stepped through the door. not only had the fire been put out but the distinct smell of bleach which usually hung in the air, had lifted. Nothing seemed real anymore, and i was certain things were only going to get worse.
There I was. Cold, damp, and still wet. It had all happened so quick–I was swimming against my brother, going out to sea, as far from land and reality as we could muster. Then, all of the sudden, my brother started choking and coughing. He was spasming out of control. He had asthma. I was tired. Cold. But my adrenaline pumped me to life, I took my arm around him, and swam back to shore with him by my side. It felt like ages before I could fall down on the sand and collapse in exhaustion. Then I was just shivering there, cold, damp, and still wet.
He came from the his errands and was sopping wet. The morning started as a beautiful warm sunny day with not one cloud in the sky. By late afternoon a torrential downpour
Her eyes started to get wet as tears formed. She was looking at her grandpa as he lay there among the other family members. No one else was crying except for her. She felt that all her family was strong except for her.
All I remembered was your hands on my wet hair, slowly weaving themselves at the nape of my neck. Slowly drying it. And even though you couldn’t tie a hair to save your life, you still did, because you wanted me to look good on my first day in class.
My hair in your hands as you slowly dried them and we both knew you couldn’t tie my hair, but you still did. And your hands slowly slipped and I felt the band you wrapped around my hair slowly slip out too. But you tried again but n matter what it kept falling.
Her hair was wet, her clothes, face, and every inch of her. but she was happy, the happiest she’s ever been. cause only on this day she knew what was missing in her life, she learnt how to enjoy her life and she was experiencing real, immense joy.
the rain gushed down hard. She stood there, allowing her hair to drip down her back, unfeeling, sad, lonely. She had simply given up. It wasn’t fair how everything in her life ended up like this. Cold and wet.
Wet?
Yeah, you could say; raindrops avalanching from my nose, my saturated shoes squelching every step as cars splash muddy puddlewater across my chest.
Looking forward to drying off at the pool.
I look out my window to see a maze of puddles on the sandstone ground. It was a perfect day for walking through the suburbs and seeing him. He, who made the clouds into shapes, the rain into sunshine and my frown into a smile.
My hair is soaking wet. I looked at his eyes. He gave me a long stare.
“Do I look that hideous?” I wondered to myself.
Then, he meowed.
My pet cat was just irritated by me as I had woken him up with my loud, thumping steps.
she felt the rush
as she stood on the edge, and peered at the ravine
and she felt impossibly tiny
and the rain fell above her,
and her face was wet and shined under the night sky
and she closed her eyes and took a step
fell
the earth becomes very wet when it rains. getting wet is a lot of fun especially with family and friends. it makes one full of joy and gay. it brings out the colours in all forms.
It slid down his chest like a piece of slime, that wet glob of demon spit. He glanced up into the demon’s eyes. “That all you got?”
“We are just getting started.” The demon jiggled its rump and lunged against him
Robert laughed.
i am wet. i feel wet. the surfaces around me are wet. there is a microcosm of space and time and feelings and perceptions that shimmer in a vast ocean of wet; like you, like he, before you: diamond blue eyes, soft and still, ocean of gold, right at the center – like your heart, where i keep trying to go to, the place inside, wetter than wet, glistening blue and black and pearlescent
surface: dusty blue. surface: cold, evil slick. eye of a panther, stalking, still. i am here, in the jungle; you are in an ocean. i can’t wait to find you, but there are continents dividing us. a soft, drooping rain falls. a rain to hail the october of us.
Soaked. She was soaked. Pushed into the creek by those chortling, sneering jerks she thought were her friends. She peeled dripping bangs away from her face and peered up into the faux stunned gaping mouths of her aggressors. Those bastards. How could they?
one night dark and cold with sleet
i washed upon the ashen shore
cold and weary, wet and weak
what once was clear i can’t recall
forest on the beach-line loomed
i looked ahead with eyes ashine and
in the ice-white light of moon
i took aflight across the sand
I hate it when it’s pissing down rain, because I drive a motorbike. Often, my shoes have holes too, so that makes the drive so much worse. Ahhh, but once I get to my destination, all is forgiven… there are puddles to jump in, and a childhood joy to re-live once again. Life ain’t so bad after all
wet and damp day, the orange/yellow leaves dripping onto the sidewalk left me with a shiver. What did he want, did he miss me, still love me or was I wishing again
When you take a shower, you get wet. When you walk out on a rainy day, you get wet. When you go for a swim in the pool, you get wet. When your dog licks your cheek, you get wet. Water gets you wet.
The sea ran over my toes, wet sand filled the spaces between them and sent goose-bumps shivering across my skin. Normally I don’t like to get wet, but these was almost sensual. The scent of sea-salt filled my lungs and the shivering need was almost overwhelming.
Another wet day. It’s not that I want to complain, I love the rain. Living in California, I hated the lack of rain, or any kind of ordinary weather. Christmas at 25 degrees just doesn’t seem right. And the grass is only green where the sprinklers reach…
Well word Wet describe the wetness. People gets wet by water, by feeling sexual in different ways. Wetness can be uncomfortable at times depending upon the person and the occasion. Timing can be important
I spilled some water on the floor when I was filling the cat’s dish. He was really thirsty and he sat in it when he was drinking. What kind of a cat sits in water and doesn’t do that “ooh! ooh!” weird finicky thing that cats do when they get wet?
I love the rain. But only when I’m with someone who I really care about. The rain has some sort of affectionate, loving feel to it, so I don’t want to associate the rain to anything or anyone else. Rain is beautiful and so is the love between two people.
I woke up and looked outside the window… and I saw the drops on it… A feeling of pure emptiness and loneliness invaded me… and I couldn’t get up of my bed… I was there, sitting… waiting… to find the strength to get up and face, yet, a new day, with a smile across my face.
On a rainy day, Mary went out of her house, in order to go to school… when she met a guy, who had eyes as blue as the sky itself. And there, at that moment, she knew he’d be the man whom she would spend the rest of her days.
Danny damn near wet himself when he saw his stepfather walking toward his hospital bed. Like a man who had stabbed a victim was walking in to check out his handiwork.
He was scraggly and hobo-esque – typical and somewhat cliché, but, there it was, all blatant and out there like a bruise. The trauma seeped over the young boy’s face as his mother clung to the ruffian’s arm.
The water washed over his body as he stared into the darkness. The bridge was very high up now. Farther than he would ever reach again. The water seemed to permeate his skin, to go through his very being. He knew, suddenly, that this was the end. He let the current take him where it would, submitting to the will of the waves.
The rivet buckled and the water poured as if it were all the water in the world. Which, in a way, it was. 300 miles off the Atlantic coast, and the trip was suddenly going to be very wet.
I waited for the wet. I thought it would have arrived, but I’m still waiting.
It floats in the air on some cold mornings, clothing the evergreens in whispy shrouds, but it is not yet arrived. It has not yet fallen on my face.
No sabía que pasaba en ese momento, de repente el azul me arropo, y no hubo nada más en que pensar, mi alma permanecía en silencio, mientras mi cuerpo mojado estaba, fue una sensación difícil de olvidar.
the room was wet when we stepped through the door. not only had the fire been put out but the distinct smell of bleach which usually hung in the air, had lifted. Nothing seemed real anymore, and i was certain things were only going to get worse.
Wet puppy noses, wet eyes of a loved one, wet lawn chair, wet hay. Time for rain and love.
There I was. Cold, damp, and still wet. It had all happened so quick–I was swimming against my brother, going out to sea, as far from land and reality as we could muster. Then, all of the sudden, my brother started choking and coughing. He was spasming out of control. He had asthma. I was tired. Cold. But my adrenaline pumped me to life, I took my arm around him, and swam back to shore with him by my side. It felt like ages before I could fall down on the sand and collapse in exhaustion. Then I was just shivering there, cold, damp, and still wet.
He came from the his errands and was sopping wet. The morning started as a beautiful warm sunny day with not one cloud in the sky. By late afternoon a torrential downpour
Her eyes started to get wet as tears formed. She was looking at her grandpa as he lay there among the other family members. No one else was crying except for her. She felt that all her family was strong except for her.
All I remembered was your hands on my wet hair, slowly weaving themselves at the nape of my neck. Slowly drying it. And even though you couldn’t tie a hair to save your life, you still did, because you wanted me to look good on my first day in class.
My hair in your hands as you slowly dried them and we both knew you couldn’t tie my hair, but you still did. And your hands slowly slipped and I felt the band you wrapped around my hair slowly slip out too. But you tried again but n matter what it kept falling.
if its not dry then its wet…..idk
Her hair was wet, her clothes, face, and every inch of her. but she was happy, the happiest she’s ever been. cause only on this day she knew what was missing in her life, she learnt how to enjoy her life and she was experiencing real, immense joy.
the rain gushed down hard. She stood there, allowing her hair to drip down her back, unfeeling, sad, lonely. She had simply given up. It wasn’t fair how everything in her life ended up like this. Cold and wet.
Wet?
Yeah, you could say; raindrops avalanching from my nose, my saturated shoes squelching every step as cars splash muddy puddlewater across my chest.
Looking forward to drying off at the pool.
‘Goodmorning grey skies and summer rain.’
I look out my window to see a maze of puddles on the sandstone ground. It was a perfect day for walking through the suburbs and seeing him. He, who made the clouds into shapes, the rain into sunshine and my frown into a smile.
My hair is soaking wet. I looked at his eyes. He gave me a long stare.
“Do I look that hideous?” I wondered to myself.
Then, he meowed.
My pet cat was just irritated by me as I had woken him up with my loud, thumping steps.
she felt the rush
as she stood on the edge, and peered at the ravine
and she felt impossibly tiny
and the rain fell above her,
and her face was wet and shined under the night sky
and she closed her eyes and took a step
fell
the earth becomes very wet when it rains. getting wet is a lot of fun especially with family and friends. it makes one full of joy and gay. it brings out the colours in all forms.
It slid down his chest like a piece of slime, that wet glob of demon spit. He glanced up into the demon’s eyes. “That all you got?”
“We are just getting started.” The demon jiggled its rump and lunged against him
Robert laughed.
water, oceans, lakes and rivers
flowing down s\towards each other.
all as one they move together
helping each other grow.
i am wet. i feel wet. the surfaces around me are wet. there is a microcosm of space and time and feelings and perceptions that shimmer in a vast ocean of wet; like you, like he, before you: diamond blue eyes, soft and still, ocean of gold, right at the center – like your heart, where i keep trying to go to, the place inside, wetter than wet, glistening blue and black and pearlescent
surface: dusty blue. surface: cold, evil slick. eye of a panther, stalking, still. i am here, in the jungle; you are in an ocean. i can’t wait to find you, but there are continents dividing us. a soft, drooping rain falls. a rain to hail the october of us.
Soaked. She was soaked. Pushed into the creek by those chortling, sneering jerks she thought were her friends. She peeled dripping bangs away from her face and peered up into the faux stunned gaping mouths of her aggressors. Those bastards. How could they?
one night dark and cold with sleet
i washed upon the ashen shore
cold and weary, wet and weak
what once was clear i can’t recall
forest on the beach-line loomed
i looked ahead with eyes ashine and
in the ice-white light of moon
i took aflight across the sand
I hate it when it’s pissing down rain, because I drive a motorbike. Often, my shoes have holes too, so that makes the drive so much worse. Ahhh, but once I get to my destination, all is forgiven… there are puddles to jump in, and a childhood joy to re-live once again. Life ain’t so bad after all
see you drown in arizona bay
As I cower in the wet, sodden ground, he lurches towards me, grinning, hands bloody and eyes burning. As I waited to die I thought of home, of her.
wet and damp day, the orange/yellow leaves dripping onto the sidewalk left me with a shiver. What did he want, did he miss me, still love me or was I wishing again
When you take a shower, you get wet. When you walk out on a rainy day, you get wet. When you go for a swim in the pool, you get wet. When your dog licks your cheek, you get wet. Water gets you wet.
I see the reflections on the dark streets. The guide lights warning of the fall.
The sea ran over my toes, wet sand filled the spaces between them and sent goose-bumps shivering across my skin. Normally I don’t like to get wet, but these was almost sensual. The scent of sea-salt filled my lungs and the shivering need was almost overwhelming.
Another wet day. It’s not that I want to complain, I love the rain. Living in California, I hated the lack of rain, or any kind of ordinary weather. Christmas at 25 degrees just doesn’t seem right. And the grass is only green where the sprinklers reach…
Well word Wet describe the wetness. People gets wet by water, by feeling sexual in different ways. Wetness can be uncomfortable at times depending upon the person and the occasion. Timing can be important
I spilled some water on the floor when I was filling the cat’s dish. He was really thirsty and he sat in it when he was drinking. What kind of a cat sits in water and doesn’t do that “ooh! ooh!” weird finicky thing that cats do when they get wet?
I love the rain. But only when I’m with someone who I really care about. The rain has some sort of affectionate, loving feel to it, so I don’t want to associate the rain to anything or anyone else. Rain is beautiful and so is the love between two people.
I woke up and looked outside the window… and I saw the drops on it… A feeling of pure emptiness and loneliness invaded me… and I couldn’t get up of my bed… I was there, sitting… waiting… to find the strength to get up and face, yet, a new day, with a smile across my face.
On a rainy day, Mary went out of her house, in order to go to school… when she met a guy, who had eyes as blue as the sky itself. And there, at that moment, she knew he’d be the man whom she would spend the rest of her days.
Danny damn near wet himself when he saw his stepfather walking toward his hospital bed. Like a man who had stabbed a victim was walking in to check out his handiwork.
He was scraggly and hobo-esque – typical and somewhat cliché, but, there it was, all blatant and out there like a bruise. The trauma seeped over the young boy’s face as his mother clung to the ruffian’s arm.
The water washed over his body as he stared into the darkness. The bridge was very high up now. Farther than he would ever reach again. The water seemed to permeate his skin, to go through his very being. He knew, suddenly, that this was the end. He let the current take him where it would, submitting to the will of the waves.
Oh no, it’s raining polar bears again. There’s a russian dude explaining to a ballerina that Vodka means, “Little Water” in Russian.
Also, motorcycles.
The End
The rivet buckled and the water poured as if it were all the water in the world. Which, in a way, it was. 300 miles off the Atlantic coast, and the trip was suddenly going to be very wet.
I waited for the wet. I thought it would have arrived, but I’m still waiting.
It floats in the air on some cold mornings, clothing the evergreens in whispy shrouds, but it is not yet arrived. It has not yet fallen on my face.
No sabía que pasaba en ese momento, de repente el azul me arropo, y no hubo nada más en que pensar, mi alma permanecía en silencio, mientras mi cuerpo mojado estaba, fue una sensación difícil de olvidar.