Category: Writers Block
I watch her, the sun casting a colorless glare off of the white walls, of the small house in which we reside, her hair falls lank against the pillow, as she lays there in that state between consciousness, and subdewed dreams.
The eyeswhich used to hold so much life, looked transparent now, how they once used to glow a radiant blue, and how they'd change in the light from violit, to a mysterious hazel color.
...
I need more ideas! I can't think anymore.
To much schoolage.
Take care,
its promising and rather like an artists pallet filled with colour
when the idea's come at 3am in my case smile.Be ready with the dictaphone because they are nearly always fleeting dont force them whatever you
good luck
Alex
Hi Torico, Your writing reminds me of the Innocence of New Beginnings... When Life is dreamy and just at a point of taking on responsibilities and then "schoolage" as you say takes place and well, Life Dreams get lost in a fog as "reality" emerges and takes control.... Oh for that sweet dreamy simplier time in Life.... Connie remembering... ThankYou Torico for being you and causing a pleasant reAwakening to a past almost forgotten.... Sweet... CG
cool. maybe you could describe there love and how they love each other.