Expectations (pt.1)
He was given a brush
And all the best paints
He had a beautiful painting in mind
But his canvas was already framed
In a magnificent, golden frame
Covered in art that was incomparable
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@i-wrote-this
Expectations (pt.1)
He was given a brush
And all the best paints
He had a beautiful painting in mind
But his canvas was already framed
In a magnificent, golden frame
Covered in art that was incomparable

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Make a wish
I wish I could draw well. If I could, I would draw a beached ship resting on top of the skyscrapers of New York. I would draw astronauts climbing the trees of a South American forest. My house would float down the Nile on an alien space ship. However, I can’t draw well. I can only write; and the reader must imagine for themselves. I think that’s better though.
What happened in the woods that night?
Shuffling through the darkness, her vision filled with little more than grey shapes, she whispered her little boy’s name. She groped through the woods with her eyes, looking for a small figure in a blue and white striped shirt and corduroy pants. A soft, high-pitched coo resonated around the trees. It was the sound of a wolf pup, making its first serenade to the moon. The second howl from the pup gave her pause. It was almost as though it were not a wolf pup at all, but her little boy imitating one with his pure love for animals. As her vision in the night grew more adept, she cantered towards the sound, calling loudly for her son. Then, she stopped. No, she went backwards. She was flung backwards by a heavy force that pinned her to the ground by both of her shoulders. She raised her head and saw a monster of a creature, both majestic and horrifying in size. It’s breath burned her skin, and made her whole body shake. She rolled her head to avert her gaze from its red and yellow teeth. Behind the monster, she saw its pup, and in its teeth, she saw a cloth of blue and white stripes, and red.
A short poem
I read in the light
But write in the dark
For a perfect sight
Triggers no spark
Imagination has no desire
When senses interfere
With the creative fire
And inspired atmosphere
The Walls Have Eyes
I was a tragically beautiful girl on a beautifully tragic painting. Brought home by a man and a woman to hang in the living room of the new house. I was so happy. I would get to watch the average family live their lives, like so many paintings before me. There was father, mother, son and daughter. When I was mounted on the wall I walked from frame to frame, room to room.
If I had one wish,
I would wish to tell them things.
Mother, who is she, that father brings home on his day off?
Mother, why does daughter only blow the smoke out of the window?
Mother, why did son take your necklace and earrings? He doesn't wear them.
Mother, why do you hide the flask?
Who is she, Father?
What's in it, Mother?
Where do you take them, son.
Dughter, you missed the ash tray.
If I had one wish.
I would wish to talk to them.
I wish I could wake them up.
I wish I could warn them.
I wish I wasn't stuck in these pictures.
I wish it wasn't so hot.
I'd never wish for an average family of my own.

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What can happen in a second?
From the ship she watched, the huge beast swirled over the island. Every person was screaming, frantically running to seek refuge. Some began to swim out to sea. She thought about turning the boat around to save them, but she knew she’d never make it.
The beast seemed to rile. It swelled and pulsated; coiling and uncoiling. Musty air filled her lungs and she thought she might wretch. Smells of eminent death were almost worse than that of death from long ago. As if in fear of the beast, the sun hid safely behind a doom-filled cloudy sky. It was as dark as if there was a thunderstorm. But there was no rain to shield her eyes from the atrocity.
It only took a second. In just one second, the beast swooped down like an owl on a mouse and swallowed the island, people and all. It happened so quickly, there seemed to be a ginormous crater in the ocean. Not even the flow of water was fast enough to fill where the island had been before the beast was gone.
Her home had been erased as if it had never existed. Only she was left to tell it’s tale, but she couldn’t. She wept for she knew that the evidence of her shame, her cowardice, was all gone. Never could she tell the tales of her home without telling of how she’d run and saved only herself. So she drifted away, a sad, lonely artifact from that which is no longer.
Just to start out, my prompts will mostly come from this impulse buy from Barnes and Noble. :3