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SundayClick click click click whoosh.
The airs shimmers.
Blue flame bites at the ceiling,
quickly tamed with the tilt of a dial.
Pots clatter as they are pulled from their homes,
ringing songs against the cabinets.
There's a ruckus;
the little ones rocket through.
The adults make room,
dancing with their hot pans and plates.
Cowboys fire at indians.
Their trusty steed, Fido,
follows with a heavy-pawed gallop.
They find their way to the table.
The withered flowers make room
for potatoes, carrots, peas.
Grandmother enters, the star of the show.
The roast sizzles, the smell of Sunday wafts through the air.
The children settle, the adults say grace.
SnowWhat do you hear?
I hear nothing. Silence. I'm the only one here. My breath disappears into the vacuum. Even the pounding stops inside me. The silence invades, quiets me. I am still.
What do you see?
I see white. Infinite. The only thing left is shadow, and even that runs to hide. Light comes from all directions and wraps me up, saving me. It won't ever be dark again.
What do you smell?
I'm not sure. It smells new, like something that just arrived, and won't be staying for long. It doesn't have time to be specific.
What do you feel?
Cold. Content. I should be shivering, but something is holding me still, comforted. Cold kisses brush my cheeks and nose. I'm not thirsty anymore.
Do you know where you are?
It feels very familiar. Is it home?
It can be.
I want to stay here.
Do you know what you are?
It doesn't matter.
You can feel it.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More