*Darlene*:
There's no one left to warm her chilled walls or to keep his tarnished wheels rolling, so they stay perched where they stand and soberly whisper long ago lullabies to one another as they steadily fuse with the earth they were left on.
*Darlene*:
Whether you deem to scrutinize the view through any individual window from the inside looking out or from the outside looking in, either way will leave you with a revealing perspective, each as compelling as the other.
*Darlene*:
Our daystar has a distinct agenda that we should all be compelled to emulate as it incessantly contrives a way to continue to shine its irrepressable beam through whatever impediments are in its way.
*Darlene*:
I was told that most weekends, her opulantly adorned interiors were filled with the upper crust of party goers enjoying the scrupulously laid out feasts set out on freshly pressed white linen tablecloths, and she ponders over why they all left her behind.
*Darlene*:
To discover those threadbare boots so meticulously placed in the rubble to protect what was left of them, it boggles the imagination as to why, and all kinds of fascinating scenarios came to mind. Some I could mention, and some I shouldn't.
neurosheep:
... meowing time is over ... it's time to roar ...
Buddha's Ghost:
My Ride's Here
siriusdebbie:
ground clutter
Alexander Miroshnikov:
Sea Shell 5
Professor Bop:
Street Art
Jim's Visions:
Lovely Lila
Jim's Visions:
The Road To Mount Lassen
riccardoziosi:
Estate
Charles Hamilton Photography:
Khalid
Irene Ruysch:
Andes and lakes
xprocessed:
Prague
Lost America:
The Kramer Nose Job
Jaime Lacasa:
Ocres y sombras
