Post by str4wberry on Sept 24, 2006 0:48:42 GMT -5
The tilted rickety street of cobbled pebbles narrowed to a abrupt halt at a mouldy shack battered by the chilling wind and slicing bullets of rain - it was easy to believe it was a barnacle that the sea vomited up. It was the exact time when civilians' collars froze rock-hard to the sweat on their neck, women were nowhere to be seen as they were in the snug centre of their small magical houses and the time when children with glass beads of sweat littering their faces came out to mould havoc in this straight street. Winter was the epitome of balancing the scales of misery and the creation joy out of misery.
Stiffly rubbing her feet closer to the feather warmth of her boots Jessica pursed her pulsing lips tight, and glared arrogantly at the dead black shack and placed a hesitant green fluffy woolen glove on the doorknob streaked with layers of pale gold plates and a handful of pus erupting spew green and brown metal pimples. Inhaling invisible ice daggers she squeezed her numb eyelids shut and exchanged heat for gentle cold on the doorknob as the wooden silent door slid open.
Voices spewed around her and colour splashed and poured into the room - Jessica was dead frozen on the spot still gripping the doorknob bewildered and she mind was momentarily stolen away over the Himalayas and still soaring.
Tensely she ravenessly gobbled the colour blinding sight that flashed and screamed with electrifying lust for attention, she felt her heart pounding against her chest.
There, glittering like stars in the African desert, in the pumping blood-red heart of the shop - was a parched mahogany sign in perfect health with brass letters boasting these words - Sweet mania.
As the shock was ebbing away she felt a pair of eyes burying itself into her back and she turned around in slow motion with her mouth open slightly.
Stiffly rubbing her feet closer to the feather warmth of her boots Jessica pursed her pulsing lips tight, and glared arrogantly at the dead black shack and placed a hesitant green fluffy woolen glove on the doorknob streaked with layers of pale gold plates and a handful of pus erupting spew green and brown metal pimples. Inhaling invisible ice daggers she squeezed her numb eyelids shut and exchanged heat for gentle cold on the doorknob as the wooden silent door slid open.
Voices spewed around her and colour splashed and poured into the room - Jessica was dead frozen on the spot still gripping the doorknob bewildered and she mind was momentarily stolen away over the Himalayas and still soaring.
Tensely she ravenessly gobbled the colour blinding sight that flashed and screamed with electrifying lust for attention, she felt her heart pounding against her chest.
There, glittering like stars in the African desert, in the pumping blood-red heart of the shop - was a parched mahogany sign in perfect health with brass letters boasting these words - Sweet mania.
As the shock was ebbing away she felt a pair of eyes burying itself into her back and she turned around in slow motion with her mouth open slightly.