In the Shadow of the Pitch by the-publisher, literature
Literature
In the Shadow of the Pitch
Shh listen can you hear it, that beautiful melody, that majestic sound, crying out from under the sewers. It's very faint but if everything were to die down you can here every word of the beautiful song. But alas not one soul can hear it, each one too busy to notice.
If one did and followed the noise then you would see something or rather someone who many think is dead, but what fools to think so, I am very much alive. I stay hidden under the town of Storybrook. There is no reason for me to come out. Too much has happen for the simple folk that the fear I feed off of is enough to last me a life time. So now there is nothing else left to do b
Ice cream:
‘Move… Move!’ that is the only thing on his mind at this current moment in time. For him this was humiliating. The big boss, the leader of the underground mafia, feared by all was stuck in a never ending line, at the ice-cream parlour. To make matters worse his son started complaining.
“Oh come on by the time we get there every flavour will be melted!” The little red headed boy wined.
‘Took the words right out of my mouth’ he thought not noticing that his son was pushing and shoving his way through to the front of the line.
Traffic:
This is why he hated the city. The most important de
A deal with The Lord of the dead by the-publisher, literature
Literature
A deal with The Lord of the dead
Belle stood in front of the second hand car dealers. She knew this was the place to go all of her research led her to this location.
Ever since the fatal day that took the one she loved most, Belle had locked herself away in the town’s library crying over the loss of Rumpelstiltskin. Only a week ago did she start reading books again, but the topic she started reading wasn't a bright one, no it was about death. She read multiple amounts of books about tragic love from Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' to Gaston Leroux's 'The Phantom of the Opera'.
Belle had soon come upon a thin old style book named 'The melodic son of light'. Intrigued
With old friends like these must make me an enemy. by the-publisher, literature
Literature
With old friends like these must make me an enemy.
The night was dark. A light fog had set in the alleyway, and the only source of light was coming from the shabby tavern. The sounds of jeers, broken glass and evil chuckles came from within the tavern.
A large silhouette body was standing in front of the building. The body stood there for a few moments before placing a paw on the door handle and entering the tavern.
Inside there where many different people and creatures, three chackling hyenas where near the stage snapping and laughing at the fear on the performer’s face. A woman dressed in red with bushie hair was sitting at the bar, next to her was a green skinned woman dressed in b
Straw, Tin, and Courage by the-publisher, literature
Literature
Straw, Tin, and Courage
The room was full of straw. Piles and piles of the golden grass filled the room. To any one this room was nothing, but to the little five year old girl with reddish-brown hair the room was an adventure. She came down here to gather some for her father but instead she found herself jumping into the straw making a mess.
“Harmony, please stop you’re making a mess” a young teen boy shouted at her trying to gather some straw as well.
“Oh come on Henry have a little bit of fun” little Harmony said tackling Henry.
Henry lost his balance and fell into a pile of straw. He could hear Harmony give out her little cackle,
The concept of saying goodbye by the-publisher, literature
Literature
The concept of saying goodbye
The concept of saying goodbye
As I sit here and type this I can help but go right down memory lane. The very thought of this makes me feel weird, and then a feeling of emptiness crashes over me. All I can say is that those places and faces are being missed.
That doesn’t mean I’ll go back. I’ve come too far to turn back. I’ve moved on with my life and will expect many new things to come, it just the feeling of me never seeing the people who got me here again. The thought hurts; the painful crush of my heart grows even more as I look back to those times.
The average person says goodbye 3650 times in a year, but how often