You spellreaders are not gunna be happy. FREE-STANDING STORY.

In all the rush of school and lazy about, I haven't found the time/energy/creativity to come up with a fun 3-part story for you lot. And the anthropological take on 'Jersey Shore,' while humerous (I can say this because I didn't think it up; my spellbuddies and I were riffing off of the "Bones" episode where Bones and Booth go to the Jersey Shore), was not fun for me after I actually thought about it. And plus, as just noted, it was very original. It's been done. And I'm trying (in my spare time between being lazy and preparing to head back up to SLU tomorrow) to give ya'll a little original reading. So, I decided today I would take something old from my files (if I have anything worthy even still on my laptop's hard drive, since I got an external drive for Christmas) and have a one day post, and if ya'll comment/notice/like it, I'll add to it someday, and if not, I'm still working with ideas for tomorrow's post. So, without further ado, here's today's story. (Note: I am currently listening to "Last Leaf" by OK Go... It's worth a listen or two--it gets better the more you listen to it... the first listen through usually isn't good).

Anyways, here it is, the story from my archives:

The silhouette of the large trees was tinted greenly in the soft dark tone of the shadow against the blue sky, bright with the cloudy cast of reflected light from the moon, though still darkened with nightfall.

            The streetlamps shone a harsh orange nearby my barred window, yet shifted to yellow-orange down the block. Below, the grey streets painted with banana-yellow stripes and decorated with black tar spots lied tiredly, exhausted from the long day and worn from a long life. Gravel abandoned in the rain drenches (recently poured in), in the indent curve where the road meets the curb, slept sadly, drowning and worthless at day and at night. Not everything that breaks apart from the original institution is special. The sidewalks which were once a fair parchment tan turned cold and grey like the lonely streets, watching the lone cars drive on the latter while missing the travellers feet from the earlier day. [...There was more, but I just can't find it--if you want more nature writing, comment below. If not, tomorrow will be another story.]

"Something Wicked This Way Comes"