refield

A redheaded girl of about ten lay in bed trying desperately not to think.  This was a much more difficult task than her reputation as a numbskull would have you believe, as her mind was frighteningly keen when plied to a proper purpose.  Like pranking her little brother, Max.  Sam latched onto that thought immediately, since it came from the present, from the now, and not from the past.  She found it perplexing, but no matter how she examined it, she could only call it an honest thought, or maybe a feeling?  She couldn't tell if they were different, or maybe mixed?  But still, she knew that they were cousins, and not siblings, but more and mo

Granny T. tried to keep the concern from showing on her face as she drove despite the fact that her sole passenger couldn't see her from his position in the back seat.  Kyoya was staring out the window at the slowly changing scenery, and desperately failing to conceal that he was still upset.  His elbow rested on the built-in armrest of the booster seat that he insisted that he was too big for every few days so that he could prop up his chin with his hand.  He found himself irritated by the way he had to lean forward to get a good view due to the head support's design.  He had to admit though, it was pretty comfortable for when he felt like s

Lieutenant Robert McCallister flashed the mirror his most disarming smile and found it unnerving.  Not that it was a bad smile, it was excellent, and the kids were sure to like him better for it, it was just that seeing his own face wearing anything but a grim expression was a bit uncanny.  Lieutenant Robert McCallister was pretty much the station's designated stoic, he was almost never upset, angry, or sad, but neither was he ever happy, excited, or jovial.  He did have one soft spot though, the kids.  Two or three times a year, Lieutenant Robert McCallister shaved his rough stubble clean off and became Fireman Bob.  Feeling the beginnings o

Though the space was indoors, it was expertly decorated to resemble a cozy back ally of Paris circa nineteen eighty-seven, down to the ambient lighting and distant sounds of traffic.  Even the café's waitstaff wore period appropriate uniforms, and the patron's more modern clothing was a tad jarring to Erin when he looked up from the utterly perplexing menu.  He thought that he recognized the words "crepes" and "café," but that was about it.  Just like Alexis to pick out such a classy joint, he mused to himself as he tried to puzzle out how to order a simple coffee.  A sudden pang of longing hit him as he visualized what his life cou

Nur was having a bit of trouble deciding on what to do.  Well, he knew he was going to bake a cake, but there was the question of what kind of cake he was going to bake for Navi's birthday party, and he was running out of time.  In a bid to jump-start his stagnant creativity, he decided to walk about downtown where several fancy bakeries often had impressive cakes on display for sale.  Though he scoffed at the idea of buying what he could bake, Nur didn't quite know how he would decorate.  It was a quick bus ride and a good way to get out of the house anyway. The first bakery he passed was awash with wedding cakes, completely useless to him.

Plugging away, Productive day, Had a say, Liking the way, The pieces lay, BUZZ. Oh, Look a, Comment, Like, Favorite, Somebody has, Noticed me, Online. Where was I? Oh, Right. Working through, Staying true, Parts due, Something new, Nothing askew, BEEP. Oh, There's another, Some hate, Some love, Either. Way, They, Noticed my, Content. Where was I? Oh, Right. Gotta go, Not slow, In the know, High and low,' Work to show, RING. Calling, Now at, The worst, Time, Don't you, Know I'm at, Work?  

There is upon the sea a ship, She's leaking and her sails are torn, Her mast is splintered and her rigging may slip, Her paint is chipped and her figurehead worn, She sits upon the glassy sea. Her crew pilots her from harbor to haven, They do what they can to repair her broken parts, To neglect her would be craven, But it's hard to tell where the job starts, She sips upon the choppy sea. There is sailing upon the sea a proud vessel, Her mast is varnished and her sails are stitched, The gaps sealed and the rigging sessile, Her paint shines and her figurehead's fixed, She sits upon a favorable sea. The captain orders to prepare f

Oh woe when the coffee's gone, The misery of the final cup drawn, Not so bad as wholly foregone, Oh the woe when the coffee's gone! And in this place you cannot brew, A steaming pot strong and new, Suffer through is all you can do, When in this place you cannot brew! Oh that wonderful bitter taste, That sets your mind to haste, Adding cream is just a waste, Oh that wonderful bitter taste! Even still there is no more, Until tomorrow to be sure, Two cups a day is a low score, Even still there is no more! So be sure to reset the pot, Or tomorrow will be shot, And you'll long for a cup strong and hot, So be sure to reset the po