YOU SUCK
by mikeee

Comment:
I suck just as bad at golf :(

You pick the cliché!
by scotthadl

Comment:
Now that's inventive. Unfortunately, the photo is the weak link in the chain of your idea.

BAHAHAAHAHAAHAH

HAHAHAAHAHA

hahah.

haha.

hah.

eeeehhh..

Friendship
by vawendy

Comment:
ewwww. hahahaaha. I have 'friends' like that :P

Procrastination
by fridjo

Comment:
Not the best grammar on the note. lol.

gee I wish I'd spent more time at work
by pixelpig

Comment:
That looks like every plant I've ever been left in charge of.

Futility
by L1

Comment:
I snickered.

Ugly - Clean To the Bone
by lynnesite

Comment:
Not exactly the greatest marriage of proverb to image here. The horses are neither exceptional examples of beauty, nor are they ugly in any way, and even on a metaphorical level the 'goes clean to the bone' part doesn't fit in any way that I can see.

Whats behind the paint?
by AmeedEl-Ghoul

Comment:
This is one of the first ribbon winners in a long time that I actually enjoy looking at. It has a story hidden in there, and the color play is pretty divine. I would love my walls painted like that!

A Gift of Nature
by Brad

Comment:
On a sunny morning in Mid-April, it finally happened. After millenia of being a lesser species, the Butterflies of Earth decided they'd had enough. No more being slaves to the pollination so that those damn humans could just come and destroy it all. No more flitting beautifully, yet without freedom, in countless 'gardens' for the amusement of those vicious masters.

No, it was all going to end on this day.

Carson landed on the head of one of them, and punched his proboscis through her skull, directly into the right spot of her brain. Instantly her eyes glazed over, and a manic grin appeared on her face, and she stood up robotically and began to move. On countless others, in every country of the world, the scene was repeated again and again.

Yes. They would have their revenge.

Wonder
by trevytrev

Comment:
She had been here since time immemorial, this little imp of a thing, with her flowing golden locks and chubby little cheeks. Much as a human child of few summers, but ageless in a way that humanity could never know.

She had been here from the time the sun had burned its first fire, and she had tended these groves and this earth with loving tenderness for all that time.

She had been here, and had thought that she would always be, but as she crouched there among these last few seedlings, she knew that such a thing was not to be. For there was a change now. A change she could feel in the earth. A change she could taste in the water, and a change she could hear in the whispers of the breeze. A change that told her that her time here was almost done.

So she tenderly stroked the seedlings, releasing a small cloud of their precious cargo, and smiled with a tear in her eye. Then she stood, and raising her arms to the sky she gathered around her the last of the energy that had guided her through the eons to this time, and with that energy she called to her a hard but gentle wind.

The air gathered about her, whipping her hair and hitting the seedlings about her feet, and as it did they gave up the last of their seeds, sending them flying about in all directions, to destinations even she did not know.

As the seeds blew in a maelstrom of fluff like the deepest of snow, she lifted her face to the winds and closed her eyes, and amidst the swirling activity she slowly faded away, and the earth knew her no more.