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Thoughtpatterns of the JumperThe crisp night air stings my nostrils
Where steam puffs out like a smoker's furl.
Stand steady, assume position, focus.
I push off hard
The frosty air burns my eyes, tears form,
Wind rushes through my ears,
As they puslate with the pounding of my heart.
Speed, form, patience.
Skis steady, knees poised, keep focused.
Wait, wait, wait.
Position, form, focus.
Knees poised, feet tense, let go...
I am falling,
Skis steady, back straight, knees poised.
Keep focused, keep spotting, keep airborne.
hold on, hold on, hold on,
a little further,
two more feet,
don't let go,
GOLD or nothing,
a little further,
Relax, let go...
GOLD or nothing.
I stood on the Fullerton Station platform, looking up into the starry sky. The tiny rain droplets landed on my face and soothed my dry, coarse skin. My nostrils filled with water, causing me to take cover under the station's enormous, hunter green eaves. A low-pitched murmur bellowed in the distance. As I glanced down the tracks, my eyes stung from the gleaming orange glow of the headlight. The groaning hum of the horn grew closer and closer by the second. A silver streak zoomed past me with immense speed, nearly knocking me down. The harsh screech of metal on metal blasted through my ear drums. Immediately after the train came to a halt, the soon-to-be passengers scurried to their respective cars.
Sleeping Car 040, room 3, is what my ticket read. I looked up at sleeping car 040. It was an old Superliner I car, and the poor thing was so decrepit it was hard to believe that it was still in use. The new paint job was chipping off, and the previous paint scheme was showing through. Some o
ReflectionsVal's pursuit led him to the foul beast's domain. The hollowed-out cavern reeked of blood and rancid meat. The dim light he had seen as he charged through the tunnel after the monster could now be identified: torches. Rows of mysteriously lit torches lined the walls of the huge cave. At its center was a substantially large labyrinth of mirrors.
He spotted the beast entering.
He spun his silver broadsword in his hand and hurried in behind it.
His garb was a simple blue and white crusader's leather with thick armored pads and reinforcing steel studs. Lightweight and flexible, but quite effective defense against blunt blows and – in a pinch – the slashing claws of the unholy spawn of the earth. All monster-hunters wore a similar variety in Val's experience. It would serve him well in these close quarters of the mirrored maze.
Right, left, forward, left, right he turned, always catching a glimpse of the beast's tail as he wove his way through the corridors. Every so often he sp
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More