Horror Story Start BANG! BANG! BANG! The door swung open with a volley of gunfire. A man clad in black, incomplete only with the lack of sunglasses to hide his piercing aqua eyes; sauntered in. He held a 9milimetre Luger pistol in his left hand, at his side.He would have looked drunk, staggering towards James and I the way he did; but for the eyes. His eyes stung with the clarity of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, why and what might (and probably would) happen. ...and his eyes told me... he didn’t care.While he moved towards me and James, he yelled at the small cafe’s occupants to shut up and not move AT ALL unless they wanted the ce
Photography: Art Or Science? My third and final focus question was whether photography was an art or a science. Pretty much all of the surveys that I got back said that primarily photography is an art, but it also has some science in it.I think that photography is an art because photography shows your creative side. Often photography is defined as creative expression. People who do photography for a living must have very creative and ambitious minds. Under what other motivations would they travel half way across the world for the perfect pictures?Can anyone in this community say that any works submitted under the category “Photography” is not in some way ar
Mummy, I'm Dying, Mummy. I’m going to tell you a story mummy.Mummy, it’s the story of what’s happening to me.These headaches, they’re getting worse mummy.Mummy, sometimes I can’t see!Mummy, why am I loosing all my hair?I’m scared mummy.My bones, they hurt mummy.Mummy, why are they putting that needle in me?!Mummy, I don’t want to leave with all those scary doctors.Why are you crying mummy?Mummy, why are you and daddy fighting?Mummy, what’s happening? Why is it all dark?Mummy, where’s daddy?Why is my head all bandaged mummy?Mummy, why can’t I go home?Mummy, my head hurts again.Mummy, I c
You Found Me You found me at my weakest moment,You loved me,And cared for me,If it wasnt for you,I wouldnt be alive.You got me through,The darkest days.When I was with you,My world lit up,Like a million candles,In a silver church.You found me,When my life was darkest,So I will always remember you.Still I remember,The touch of your fingers on my skin,The taste of your lips on mine.Never will I forget,Your musky smell,The shape of your eyes,The texture of your skin.I will never forget,That you found me,At my weakest moment.That,When the world was shades of grey,You were the paint that coloured it bright.
Sta.sh
