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Nanowrimo StoryShe stood watching as the people scurried by. She was always forced to watch, yet she could not move, she could not speak. Her mind roiled in frustration.
"Its not long now," her mind soothed itself. "The spell so cleverly made is fading, as they all do with time. Soon we shall have our revenge."
"Avelina! Wait up!" Emma called out as she ran after her friend, her long blond braids flapping wildly behind her. Avelina paused and laughed at her friend.
"You're so slow, Emma. C'mon, hurry up!" Aveline called out, her tall figure standing over the rest of the crowd, her brown hair whipping in the fierce wind.
"Looks like its going to storm," Emma said as she slowed to a stop next to her friend's side. Dark storm clouds growled overhead, threatening to pour on their heads.
"That's why I told you to hurry!" Avelina exclaimed. "We'll get rained on!" Rain fell from the clouds violently, and the two girls broke into a run down the street, weaving through the crowd of other students pulling out
Mundus Verborum"Happy Word day, little brats!" Kaylee exclaimed cheerfully as she darted towards our group, her pockets bulging. "They're practically giving away the hand injectors. And you really can't properly celebrate Word day without at least one!" All of the smaller children flooded around Kaylee, the richest of our group, their grubby hands grasping at her skirt while the older children stood back and watched. "Patience, little ones. There's plenty for everyone," Kaylee scolded. As I waited, my gaze drifted to the treetops just visible over the top of the fence. On a quiet day, you could almost hear the forest whispering amongst itself. The adults thought that the sound was strange and ominous, but I had never known the world they called earth.
I was born aboard the Mayflower, an Earth spaceship, fifteen years into the voyage. I was five when our ship, one of the first made for colonization, landed on this planet, named Mundus Verborum in the original Latin, or more commonly known as the World
Le RenardLe Renard roux,
Comme un rose.
Il est sage,
Comme un vieil arbre.
Il sait que,
Qui ne voit pas bien
Mais le cur,
Il sait que la vérité,
Que les hommes ont oublié.
Tu s'as apprivoisé.
Tu deviens responsable pour lui.
Le renard roux,
Comme le sang,
Pour le Prince,
Photography: Unleash Your Inner ChildI cannot speak for other arts, as I only practice photography, and I will offer the diclaimer that this is only my personal opinion.
In order to be a photographer, you have to be in touch with you inner child. Now, I don't mean you need to go lay on the couch with a bag of candy and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Rather, you must look at the world through the eyes of a child and regard everything with awe and wonder as though you are seeing everything for the first time. Children are well-known for seeing things that adults often overlook. And that is why you must be able to see the world as a child in order to find beauty that is so often overlooked by those who claim maturity. For what use is maturity if you ignore the beauty that surrounds you? And at teh same time, what use is seeing this beauty if you are unable to recognize it for what it is? Thus a balance of both innocent naiveity and maturity is essential for photography. With this balance, you can see the beauty in small th
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