Cosimo Galluzzi

shark vs the universe

Love Begins
Monterey Bay Aquarium

tannertan36
RMH
Claire Keane
we're not kids anymore.

â
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

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pixel skylines
đŞź
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
sheepfilms

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

Product Placement
Peter Solarz
seen from Germany

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@evntuly-blog

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defnitly replied to your post: defnitly replied to your post: ...
son, iâm⌠dad.
i dont have a dad
defnitly replied to your post: hi im here
hello here, iâm
youre?
hi im here

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patron saint of not giving up even though you would like to sometimes
(https://www.instagram.com/p/Bb_VEHtBqS3/)
The effect of tiny iron filings dropped into a flame. Book of riddles and five hundred home amusements. 1863.Â
âI have a feeling youâre referencing something with that, but fuck if I know what it is. Iâm not sure thatâs entirely how it goes, anyways? At least, thatâs not what Iâm inclined to do, jesus.â You mutter, more to yourself by the end of it, trying to figure out what the hell this guy was saying.Â
It doesnât take much longer to arrive at the inn your companion was staying at, being only around the corner from the cafe, hilariously enough. You come to a stop just outside the door, the lamps on either side of the entrance offering solace from the dark.Â
You shuffle your feet for a moment or two, extending the box in your hands towards him. âYou can have these, if you want. If foodâs ever an issue for you, I can help with that, too, yknow. But for now, I can at least offer some awesome fuckin dessert. I guess this is kind of me dropping stuff on you like you were talking about? But itâs not furniture. I can try my best on the montage, though.â

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Cy Twombly
Wendelin Wohlgemuth Small Back II, 2015 Oil on wood, 12 x 12 x 1 in
defnitly:
You go back to being the endeared spectator for the time being, yet you wish for nothing else. The lady (Beurre-Garde? Beaugaude? French is still a bit hard on you even all these years) is a darling and she and Dave have a cute dynamic. This sense of casual intimacy is almost poignant to you, something you can definitely build yourself, but see yourself cutting it every time you move.
It dawns on you that for people like him and you, this is probably the most, the closest you can aspire to and thatâsâŚ. frankly dismaying.
His return pushes these thoughts away, and your eyes are curious beacons of questions at the box he carries, like a cat that Truly wishes to be given the hidden treats Right Now.
You nod at him anyway, bundling yourself up on borrowed sweater and scarf, before offering an enthusiastic wave goodbye at the cafÊ owner.
âItâs ok, our quest here is complete anyway! And huuuuuh⌠yes. Itâd probably be wise not to wander around close to night time. Iâm sure you donât want your new annoyance to turn into an annoysicle, right??â
You lead him back into the chilly outdoors, waving as well on your way out. This time, though, you donât take his arm, if only because you have the now slippery box, thanks to your gloves. You raise it a little as you walk, turning a corner before you speak.Â
âCookies. She never lets me leave without my hands full. Sheâs always trying new recipes and stuff, so. Iâm designated taste-tester. But sometimes she throws some classics or favourites in there. Itâs almost tacky to say sheâs too sweet, given her abundance of sugar treats. Sheâs the perfect grandmother figure.âÂ
You shake your head a little, huffing a breath of mist as the first street lamps start to flicker on, lighting your path. âThanks, though. For the snack. You really didnât owe me, but it was a nice touch.â
You snort, but your smile softens. "I've certainly had worse," you tease, taking a few more sips of your drink. "And I think I can live with that, too."
It's at this point that you fall silent, finishing your treats and taking both your plates and mugs back up to Mme Beauregarde, thanking her for another perfect indulgence. She fawns over you for a few moments, reaching over the counter to ruffle your hair and slide you a small box with a wink and wishing you and your friend a safe walk home and a good night, and reminds you to bundle up since it's winter now, you know.
You thank her again and make your way back to the table, placing the box down onto the table so you can start putting your jacket and things back on. "She's gotta close soon, so we should probably skedaddle," you inform him as you slide your gloves on, flexing your fingers quickly before picking the box back up, idly rearranging the remaining items on the table to sit perfectly, back where they should be. "I'll walk you back to the inn, if you want."

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Details of The Little Village Girl with Red Carnation, 1903, by Adolfo Guiard (1860-1916)
GĂŠrard DuBois (French, b. 1968, France, based Montreal, Quebec, Canada) - Painting for National Labor Federation 2015 Calendar