Above

Hope I got right person lol

Link: https://www.sylestia.com/forums/?thread=80136&page=24#240 Author: Orcastration Time Posted: 10/31/2019 at 10:05 AM .....Really you guys?

^{big confused}

Did I just ping two wrong peopel?

Whoops

Hey


*has a paragraph of an iuintro*



This works....XP

Aw man. I never finished the piece I started for the contest. Don't know if I can manage it before I have to go to work tonight, but I might still try to post it.

I'm cutting it a bit close, but here's my entry for the halloween contest. It didn't end up very halloween though...

Theme: Ghost
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I've been wandering all day, hoping to see your face, looking between the glossed pages of a thousand forgotten texts. But I don't even know where to start. Flip one over, empty another box, then move on. I don't know your face and yet I'm haunted by your ghost. Haunted, haunted, haunted since the day of my birth. I'm wandering about, hoping to see your face.

Soft hair like a sable scarf and coiled limbs like springs. I feel your touch, feel it inside my dreams. When you place your hand on my arm, that's when we form a bond. Your hand placed inside of mine. These touches haunt me even though we've never met, at least, not of yet. Flip one over, empty another box, then move on. Still I'm wandering about, hoping to see your face.

Then, in the shadow of a mirror, the reflection in the corner of my eye, flaxen hair moves--not mine. Winking eyes draw me in to stop and stare. Stare at hair that is not mine. My ghost is haunting me like he knows I'm haunting him. Who is who, chasing who? That face, still, I've hoped long enough. Who would I be not to stare?

So, long I stood there staring, wondering, even long after my ghost moved away. But there, in another mirror! I cannot help but follow, from room to room and hall to hall, until we meet again. The dance must stop. We must stop. All wandering eventually reaches its end, or at least I've always hoped. So, when I reach the lofty attic room and feel your silken touch, I stop.

I've been wandering all day, hoping to see your face between all these broken mirrors. And now that I stop and look, I realize you've been here all along. You, my reflected ghost that I could never be. I know. Surely, like a babe knows his mother, I know.

I know that you are me.

...?

.....
Exactly how much work did we do on our group entry?

Well, I'm sorry.

*sighs* its fine?

It's not just my fault, okay? And there are things called midterms.