Monday, November 9, 2009

Chronicled.

It's been a while hasn't it.

Updates or a story?

Let's say...both.

An anxious, expectant hush falls across the room. Nary a molecule of air dares to twitch.

A heartbeat later, sound erupts, from the large soul-sucking box as well as from its victims. There are shouts of jubilation as well as groans of agony, indistinct in their individuality, lost in the cacophony.

Chelsea had scored. A lucky deflect off the heads of John Terry and Nicolas Anelka. The Devils fought on but Lady Luck would not deign to smile upon them. Maybe she hadn't brushed that morning.

Anon, the sky wept her sorrow for their loss to a team of Hollywood understudies.

Through the velvet night, cloaked with starlight, confident in their finger-dancing mastery, Guitar Heroes abound with their axes, slaying and shredding all who dare to stand in their way.

No love more fiery than this has been felt for any sentient being.

|Basking @| 10:51 PM|

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