Wow, yeah, that's disorienting, popping up in Dogtown, when I was aiming at Tangley Mews.
You should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.
Love makes you do the wacky.
Willow ,'Beneath You'
Sang Sacré
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
Frankenbuddha - Apr 22, 2011 4:15:00 am PDT #1089 of 1100
"We are the Goon Squad and we're coming to town...Beep! Beep!" - David Bowie, "Fashion"
WindSparrow - Apr 22, 2011 5:52:48 am PDT #1090 of 1100
Love is stronger than death and harder than sorrow. Those who practice it are fierce like the light of stars traveling eons to pierce the night.
I try to avoid going down rabbit holes. They don't have much use for me, and I'd rather not tick them off by cussing at the travel delays. But it's worth keeping the lines of communication open, because they are excellent inspiration when one's own imagination runs dry.
DavidS - Apr 22, 2011 6:10:23 am PDT #1091 of 1100
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
The curtains are drawn at Goblin Market. There's a small hand lettered sign in the window written in an elegant hand: "Closed due to a death in the family."
Somebody's left white lillies on the doorstep. Nestled against them are small sachets wrapped in black lace. I pick one up and give it a sniff: catnip.
Beverly - Apr 22, 2011 9:55:57 am PDT #1092 of 1100
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
(made me sniffle)
Atropa - Apr 22, 2011 10:31:23 am PDT #1093 of 1100
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
(brb, crying. Thank you, Hec.)
Strix - Apr 23, 2011 12:23:11 pm PDT #1094 of 1100
A dress should be tight enough to show you're a woman but loose enough to flee from zombies. — Ginger
(OH! *sniff* Sweet!)
WindSparrow - Apr 26, 2011 9:34:09 am PDT #1095 of 1100
Love is stronger than death and harder than sorrow. Those who practice it are fierce like the light of stars traveling eons to pierce the night.
The sun in Sang Sacre is bright, gently warming my face as I listen to the distant echoes of distress, fear, anger, the pleas for vengeance on the fickle gods that rule the weather in the Upper Midwest of the U.S. Poor blighters, not much I can do against gods, a bit of persuasion, perhaps. Really, now, isn't three snow storms in April a bit much? Your people are crying for mercy, bump the temperature up enough to make it rain, eh?
Ah, thanks, gents. I feel their relief.
msbelle - Oct 03, 2011 7:45:59 pm PDT #1096 of 1100
I remember the crazy days. 500 posts an hour. Nubmer! Natgbsb
OMG Natter is CLOSED!!! OMG!!!
runs
Liese S. - Aug 08, 2012 9:18:02 pm PDT #1097 of 1100
"Faded like the lilac, he thought."
There is a rumble. Some sort of clanking. The smell of something vaguely like diesel.
Was that the tour bus again?
Whatever it was, it seems to be gone now. I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you.
jpmorgansambiguous - Oct 28, 2014 5:13:31 am PDT #1098 of 1100