elephantstone86

What they don't tell you beneath the steeple Is hell consists of other people When you speak, it's heavenly revel But reversed it's the speech of the devil I can feel the friction in the air One spark will blow this whole affair But I'd burn my bridges for one kiss Death by fire for a moment of bliss So set me on fire and watch me burn Ashes to ashes, to dust I'll return You made me in the potter's kiln But when you break me, I'm the villain? You start the reaction but can't control it At critical mass you run for the exit Get thee hence and head for the highland Because my heart is a three mile island You hold the spark that

 "I refuse to transmat," said Zeph, fixing his eyes on the middle-aged woman sitting behind the ITA counter. She stared back with simmering fury, but he just tightened his long white scarf around his throat and tossed one end over his shoulder. The motion probably seemed haughty and melodramatic, but to him, this was a matter of life and death. Such trivialities hardly mattered. His eyes flicked up to the wall behind her, where a very retro-styled elliptical script read 'Outbound Flights'. Ha, ironic. No flights to be found here! The woman flashed him a weak smile. "I apologize, Sir," she said, in a strained, perfunctory, and not very

I see her eyes in the circle of the skies Dawning each day as the time flies As I move through her hills, I lose my wills And spiral away like a windmill Primal but never old, she's sunlit so bold With her flowing hair like a river of gold I wanna be her rover, wander on over Sculpted white skin like the cliffs of Dover Hunting that elusive tattoo'd clover I'll head Down Under and search all over She's raising the bar, she's spectacular There's no words, in vernacular Might as well explain, the physics of a plane To a tribe of Gauls living in Champagne So careful she don't spurn ya, like you're Calpernia As pretty as the hills

 When Sved was little, they'd told him he was a 'Ribosome', and that he had to work. When he asked why, they'd told him everyone had to earn their place in Cellopolis, or else the Lysosome Directorate would come for him. So, Sved worked. He sat back in his chair, the last protein he'd been allotted for the day lying on his desk, finished. He loaded it into the vessicrate for shipment to one of the Golgi Apparatchik for inspection. He called for the Vessicman who'd whisk it away, but to his dismay the man just replaced Sved's finished protein with a new vat of Aminos. Sved slipped an unlit cigarette between his lips as he got out of his se

 Reggie Tallamonte settled into his recliner, and switched on his modest flat screen TV. The coils wrapped around the antenna began to glow green. Being an electrician with WUPC, he noticed  the coils weren't glowing as bright as they should be. Still, he might have been on call, but he sure didn't feel like volunteering to work. The TV hummed to life, tuned to FOX News as it usually was. "....it's September 2nd, 2019," said the newscaster, "and we go live to the White House where the President is poised to address the nation." Now there was a man who was proud to be an American. An honest, hard-working, amiable tone filled the room.