The March Colt
by hahn23

Comment:
*comment removed at photographer's request*

Message edited by author 2009-01-23 13:42:19.

Through a child's eyes
by srugolo

Comment:
She cast her gaze up pensively, a tug of a smile upon her lips. What was she thinking as you look down at her? Were her thoughts those of comfort and safety? Were they wondering if you would be happy or mad this time? Did she think about you at all, or were her thoughts still lost in the chaos that is her developing mind?

What was she thinking as you smile and tussle her hair and continue off to sit and finish your drink. Did she think about the yelling, or did she remember the hugs? Did she dwell on her troubles, or dream all her dreams?

As she watches you sit down, and returns to her play, you smile to yourself and wonder. So many moods, and so many faces. Which one will it be every day? She tells you so little, and you have so little time to inquire, but you suddenly realize that you have all the time in the world now.

What is she thinking as you get back up and sit down next to her. What is she thinking?

Just ask.

Into the Light
by Cuttooth

Comment:
At the end of the world, at the end of time, one man was destined to try and save humanity. Using a new technology that had never been tested, he was to return to the past and try to find a way to stave off the inevitable. To somehow find a way to cheat fate and continue the human race past their slotted time in the universe.

Now came the moment. Now came his chance to fulfill that destiny. With a final cry of determination, he ran towards the shimmering wall that divided the now with the then, and leapt into his past, and his future.

DPC Nation
by Art Roflmao

Comment:
*singing*

Wasting away again in poor ol' Woodyville.
Lookin' for my lost Photoshopland.

Some people say that there's a Canon to blame, but I know.
bum, bum bum bah bah...
It's Pentax' fault.

Blue sky research
by johst582

Comment:
They had built the ball for another purpose. It was there to collect data. Radio waves. Interference. Celestial noise. It was there to monitor our universe for intelligent life, to help assure us that we were not alone.

We found out that we were not alone, but not from any of the data collected by the ball. No, they came in the form of mimicry. They came and they used our very atmosphere to create terrestrial shapes from the clouds. They came and they began to devastate us and our planet.

They had built it for another purpose, but in those days of the war to save humanity, the ball became a weapon. It became a focuser of light that was used to disintegrate the alien spirits that controlled those clouds so shaped like the animals of earth.

They had built it for another purpose, but it had become humanity's only hope.

Ode to Irene
by Lonz

Comment:
She had gone to bed, the photographer. For hours she had stood above the crystal bowl, taking so many countless photographs. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Hundreds and hundreds, hours and hours. It was as if she would never stop, but stop she did.

With a sigh, the photographer gathered her equipment, and put it away, and stepped out of the room, and silence reigned. For a moment, all was still. Then, slowly, a ripple formed in the water lying in the bottom of the bowl. From that ripple rose a tiny pod of water, like a liquid finger poking through. It swayed there, unsteady for a moment, but grew stronger as the minutes passed. It twisted about, as if looking around, and then began to grow further out of the water, stretching itself, floating through the air. It grew, until it was as round as a forearm. It hovered there, making not a sound, and then as if it had finally made a final decision, it shot through the room and disappeared through the doorway.

The photographer, asleep in another part of the house that night, never even had time to scream.

America
by ashepp

Comment:
It was a fierce loyalty. For years he had served his country against an evil that threatened them and their way of life. For years he had fought with his country against a people that hated his country's policies, and freedoms, and way of life. For years he had served his country for everything his country stood for.

So it was one morning, when he awoke, and looked in the mirror, and saw the very symbols of that evil country forever etched upon his very face, that he began to scream.

It was a horror from which he never recovered.

the path
by timfythetoo

Comment:
The patter of feet on cold flagon stones, a whisp of the breeze by and by.
The soft satin touch of a petal on cheek, a heart filled with wonder and why.

A smile and a grin lets the sunshine pour in, her laughter then gives it a glow.
To run and explore none the less all the more, is all that the child needs to know.

She's sweet and she's strong, as she's carried along through her growth and her experience.
She wonders and learns with a childhood concern that is honest but fiercely intense.

It's laughter and tears, it's hopes and it's fears, it's a journey both magic and wild.
It's happy and sad, it's good and it's bad, it's the Wonderful Life of the Child.

Pelican ACTION !!!
by andrewt

Comment:
...and so it came to pass, that when evil was afoot, and the safety of the people was in danger, and the world seemed to be a more frightening and dangerous place, that The PelicanĂ¢„¢ would burst from the waters in a shower of droplets and bring joy and relief to the hearts of The Sandbar once again.

city-vibes
by hanneke

Comment:
She sat out on the rooftop, with the city behind her. It was a beautiful day, the air crisp and cleaner than usual. The sun was just right, the sounds of the rat race far below were muted and almost forgettable.

She glanced back at something and smiled a little. The love of her life came out from the doorway and smiled back, and began to walk toward her.

It is days like this that let us remember what it is to be alive. That let us remember why we wish to exist and go on and make our plans and set our goals and work towards our future. It is days like this that make us feel glad and forget the ills and fears and disappointments.

It is days like this that we can almost forgive ourselves for being human.