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Monday Muses | Wandering Wednesday| Thursday Greets | WishingWell Weekly | Selfless Saturday

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We built a virtual house for dAWishingWell members. Now your job is to bring something in the house. Is it furniture? Food? A plant? A cat? A friend? Whatever you think belongs to the house!

Find a deviation (even from your own gallery) of something you want to bring in the house and link it in a comment on this blog. Limit of one deviation per member please! Each submitted deviation will be featured in the next TT! Enjoy and have a good day! 

Suggestions must be sent before Tuesday April 1st.

Obviously, we need a house first

And now time to feature deserving artists

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Mature Content

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Atlantean WinterStatic fills my lungs, exhaled
on a writhing cloud of electric locusts:
the voice of all the souls we have shed
to reach the artificial luminescence
of enlightenment.
My field is scarred by trenches,
veins of absence against the
whorled mud rimed in grey
ice- mirror of a slow death.
My pulse stammers steadily,
matched by the synthetic chirping
at my bedside.
Accusations adorn my bedside
in the form of molded roses.
I watch the waves crest the distant hills. 

Mature Content

 <da:thumb id="430226500"/>  Strangely Beautiful, Chapter 6I hadn't had much success with the horse riding. Falling off a good five times before my uncle decided it'd be best to just take the truck across the way for now. Though, lessons were in order. The teasing never ended. My uncle threw around so many insults disguised as ignorance. 
"You mean to tell me you city folk ain't ever rode a horse? How else you gon' get around?" He'd laugh, only judging my lifestyle further. At one point he even made fun of my purple hair. But when we finally arrived at the farm, he cut all joking short and got straight to business. 
"You too inexperienced for herding, just feed them animals o'er yonder." He says, handing me an empty bucket, sending me on my way to an animal barn not too far away. I have questions, but before I can mutter a word, he's riding off to begin his work. Walking through the field is tough, but these boots--no matter how worn down they are--were made for this. It didn't take long to get to where I was going. And as I arrived, <da:thumb id="441309505"/> 

Thank you for participating!