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| Gunzfactorian Guardian | His eyes avoid the television set and his hands don’t bother reaching for the magazines. Instead he finds himself staring at the plain white tile floor and twiddling his thumbs over one another. On the couch he sits, waits, and clings on to that slightest hint of hope that there is left, that last bit of faith that promises him that she’s going to come out of this, live and well and ready to come back home to finish another forty years before she’s actually meant for it. But he knows he’s not one to decide, and all he can do is wait and pray; but as the doors swing open and the doctor unsnaps her mask he doesn’t need to hear her talk to already get the point. And as she speaks her first few words he can’t do anything else because the tears have exploded and all he can do is cry. __________________________________________________ _______________ Rushed, I know, definetely not my best, just trying to pitch some crap in since it feels dead here over yonder. |
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| | #3 (permalink) |
| Gunzfactorian Soldier | I could probably liven up this place a bit with my new story, but I can't seem to find the inspiration. I've also been thinking about continuing my "Of noobs and newbs" series, but I don't really think I could make it interesting. As for your work: short, as always, but that's not bad. You put a lot of detail into it, but it remains readable. A quick read, but interesting nonetheless. |
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| | #4 (permalink) | |
| Gunzfactorian Patriot | Quote:
... maybe I should just write a short one like Sigh, for the sake of this section... I do have a lot of sentiments on my mind.... | |
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| | #7 (permalink) | |
| Gunzfactorian Patriot | Quote:
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