One Hundred YearsThe man made for the door of his dishevelled shack, opening it carefully in case it fell apart simply from being disturbed. Outside, it was no much better than in the shack. The wind had picked up since earlier, but the sun still remained as scorching as ever. He looked over at what the world had become: dust. Dust from a generation gone by, dust from the tools used and thrown away like garbage. He scratched his bald head and took a seat on the chair on what he arguably called his porch. The chair, which sat on the dust outside the man's shack, was possibly in better condition than the house itself. The man laughed at the thought, and leanedOne Hundred Years
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Elftown - [link]
WritersCo - [link]
MusMakers - [link]
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"Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender, or too firm a heart,
To act a lover's or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reversion in the sky,
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?"
[link]
you'll become deeply addicted... i guarantee it.
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Don't look at me that way. It's not my fault DeviantArt calls things that are potentially ideologically offensive "mature." >_>
I'm sad I don't have anything to put up, really. I don't take photos, don't paint, and my realm as a writer is novels and novellas, too long for the site.
*end extremely long comment*
jks.
could you feed your novel chapter by chapter or would you be scared of people taking your work?
on second thoughts.. perhaps hold off on submitting.
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