(Picture from unknown source)
And so right there in all dirty ally this girl shot this guy.
And yet as she pulled the trigger, it was as if magnets pulled her soul through
with the bullets twirling vortex. Every day for 28 days after she was like a
ghost. That was of course until hooning through gum tree and rain, she hit at 95
kilometres an hour, another dead man’s grave stump. However, meanwhile she was really
flying through that air for 28 days. 28 days in .02 soul milliseconds. As the
car collided, the bullet hit the chest and passed, shattering a rib. On it
continued, swimming though blood cells that all drooped up animal heads to dull-pupil the sight of the intruder until it entered the palace of the right
ventriloqual. This was where the white Emperor stood in pointed shock until he was
spear tackled.
With a fatal last look to his advisor, a look beholden to
the empires collapse, all he could whisper was “save yourself” before he was
pulled through his throne, through the wall, bleeding out into the smash. Yet
there, after realities time-concrete cratered death, she lifted her head to
face him and the new heart thumping silence followed for awhile. “Hi… miss me?”
was all she said to break it. But that was enough. There on that unholy bed of flat
bullet, they made love. Menacing, snarling, holy lightning striking love. And
after their pupil’s complete dilation aligned, forming the very construction of
light itself in their mind, they knew it was time to pay. So with a sigh at
each other’s essence, they rolled over onto their knees. There upon the metal, inspired by the curves
of their love, they drew long shapes, which pulsed red until they shouted;
“heart!” “spun!” and then two samurai swords of unmatched quality, star and
spiral stamped, were picked up by each.
“You’re freakin crazy” he laughed. “You
know there will be too many this time don’t you?” “Aww come on lover, haven’t
we been practicing?” –bemused sarcasm was her favourite way to make
uncomfortable facts go away. And as the
horde of demonic giants rose over the lip of the crater -some with blue cracked
skin, others with red spikes- she flinched a little yet continued; “numbers
don’t mean jack to me, but you know that about me don’t you?” “Humph” was all
he returned as he locked onto one of the biggest blue giants, eyes like
whirlpools. The horde, with a howl of
unearthly thunderous intent, stopped still on the lip of the crater, encircled
them with smirking, continental-grinding, staring death. All the two warriors could
do was crouch into a smiling combat stance, spinning their katanna’s. “I hate
our bodies.” “Yeah… Me too…”
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