The following information below are profiles about the main characters in the ongoing novel collaboration, “Identify.”
Some more awesome work from the brilliant mastermind, AuAu. Do check it out!
The other day I was about to write a “poem” called ~Hoarder lite~, once upon a time I was a full one, now I notice Im lite, which gets in the middle of the so necessary cleaning that has draaaaaged for years.
Then I want to do it all in one day, impossible, then I just do enough and forget about it, then I want to do something and get a flu, or work, or busy with whatever crap, aaaahhhhh.
Lots of work this past week, I know its a fat-thin cows thing, so I dont complain much. Pigeon matters, the baby squad remains here, baby 2 and 3 are still small, baby number 6, I have released him like five times and still comes back at the end of the day.
Plenty of other stuff… with the so many deaths of friendly birds, and that time of the year…
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Amazing artwork by AuAu. The latter two images are depictions of Tom and Lauren from “Identify” an ongoing collaborative novel I am running. You can view the character profiles here if you would like to be more familiar with the main characters (and the story) and catch up on the rest of the chapters here.
Please do check out AuAu’s website and further work. They have such great talent!
Work, work, work… ahg, it kills my good mood and eats my time.
I should be glad I even have it though, I dont know how it has lasted for so long, maybe its my looks. Yesterday I wrote a big analysis of my teaching work, it was a good read, but too negative so I erased it today.
They all have their projects they want to do, they struggle with the technical part, so they call me. They start well, they get excited, its finally gonna happen… until they realize that they have to study, and they have to work, and that they have to invest to some degree. Then they slowly clinch to the hope that it will be done somehow, yet it wont.
Bottom line, they dont believe in themselves, time to go back being a sheep of media.
“Yesterday I released baby #4, he was capable…
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She hated them, but quite at times admired them for their will to live. The bond between them only got stronger and stronger the more adversities they faced together. Only Zara was able to flicker that bond for a few moments, that fucking siblings-bond.
We are currently looking for a participant to pen chapter nine of “Identify”. You can sign up through here. Please also leave a comment below that you’ve signed up, so when it is your turn, I can remind you and let you know that you have one week to write the chapter and send it back to me.
Darkness wailed, as they shuffled silently ensuring Anastasia had indeed left the basement. Tom balanced himself up with one of the boxes sequestered in the room. “I don’t want to see her,” his eyes twisted shut.
It’s not a comfortable silence; a tableau of images coursed through him like a dark wash of blood and glassy eyes gating towards him. He didn’t understand the complexity of what he saw, and shaking, he started to shiver on the floor, feeling mounted towards the absolute of death. She crouched down with him, surveying his eyes. He felt he was bleeding out, and before he could get a word in, she gently put the cigarette on his lips, told him to puff. He coughed. His legs swayed, his ribs jammed and compacted. Most of all, he felt trapped in a faint chill that squeezed his eyes open and closed. “Take the cig, Tom, and give it a kiss for me.”
Zara paced back and forth between the branches, curling her feet around the bark covered limbs. As quietly as she could, she watched the two below hurriedly dash about, covering their mechanical transport vehicle. How stupid, she thought. To think they went unseen on such an island as this. How easily she could take them out with her claws she pondered, but now was not the time to strike.
“I think this is good,” Lauren took a step back to inspect their work. “Let’s go,” she handed him a heavy bag, while she carried another. He followed her.
He clears his throat, turning to leave. I grab my umbrella as the darkening clouds started to form. The shade covers me, and throughout the empty streets, I walk in the direction of the man.
My grip loosens on the umbrella, now angled downward; it slices easily into his thigh and he starts to bleed, the red now burdened, padding his brown layered pants. He slips a tad on the concrete, whirring slightly deeper into the dark dawn tip of the knife.
I’ve laid before you, darkness all I’ve mapped, all alone,
Those little taps, and the enlightenment of voice from birth
Intrigue the remembrance of once I had,
And all I held, and all I’ve left and sought,
And loved, I’ve loved! The cruelty of son,
Told that the son branched take on this