Newest Deviations
Sixty Years After.Where I was I can tell you now. The day that Orwell died I was not a thought upon this earth; in blackness I did reside.Sixty Years After.
Now here I sit in a time much later, yet the times much still the same. Familiar politics in new-age masks and with a newer, shiny frame.
The socialists raise revolutionary fists in ever smaller numbers. Their purpose near forgotten, lost, for apathy encumbers.
Fascists? No, too weak and poor to ever rise again, except in forms of spirited faiths, gods held up by madmen.
For Empire, though, there is st
by ~847thinfantry
The Informative OneThere once was a time when these kinds of things didn’t happen.The Informative One
Looking down at his feet as he rushed into the school from the rain-sodden parking lot, Steven noticed that every time he touched the floor with his humble but decrepit shoes there would be an evident squeak, and that every time he lifted his feet the floor before him would be bespattered by loose droplets that had stubbornly clung to him. He increased his pace so that he might reach the carpeted staircase that would mean his liberation from a messy and noisy stagger. Carrying the weight of his bag on his slightly frail form he found it difficult to climb the st
by ~847thinfantry
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~CHRISTINE~`
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~CHRISTINE~`
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~CHRISTINE~`
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You inspire me.
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