Across the tent, Rhaegal unfolded green wings to flap and flutter a half foot before thumping to the carpet. When he landed, his tail lashed back and forth in fury, and he raised his head and screamed. If I had wings, I would want to fly too, Dany thought. The Targaryens of old had ridden upon dragonback when they went to war. She tried to imagine what it would feel like, to straddle a dragon’s neck and soar high into the air. It would be like standing on a mountaintop, only better. The whole world would be spread out below. If I flew high enough, I could even see the Seven Kingdoms, and reach up and touch the comet.
Daenerys I, A CLASH OF KINGS
As Arya crossed the yard to the bathhouse, she spied a raven circling down toward the rookery, and wondered where it had come from and what message it carried. Might be it’s from Robb, come to say it wasn’t true about Bran and Rickon. She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself. And if it was true, I’d just fly away, fly up past the moon and the shining stars, and see all the things in Old Nan’s stories, dragons and sea monsters and the Titan of Braavos, and maybe I wouldn’t ever fly back unless I wanted to.
Cans of soda keep their fizz for years – much longer than plastic bottles, which inevitably expand and contract, air seeping out ’til none is left, lifeless liquid lying static, line against the bottle, flat. The bottles I have tucked against the seats before me have crinkled sharply as the plane descend on the other side of the Atlantic, left a thorny, jagged husk by the changing pressure of the cabin air. Embrace the pressure: it’ll turn your skin to diamond, split you apart and set you rolling in the mud, lost and looking. What can I say? My soul goes every night outside my body; roams in and under, over, through the walls; it scours this silver city’s sunken skyline. She’s crying for her past and future self, screaming out and hearing nothing in return; she’s tearing at the seams and comes undone but she’s not done and in the silence now a crack, a hiss of air, a whisper: “You’re lost forever.”
It's interesting how heavy and relentless singing of mazoku (demonic beings) combines with cheerful and uplifting singing of shinzoku (celestial beings) and creates beautiful combination song resulting in Urd becoming half-mazoku half-shinzoku as whole again.
From "Aa! Megami-sama! Sorezore no Tsubasa" a.k.a. "Ah! My Goddess: Flights of Fancy".
morgsbord Blog Magazine Podcast - Flights of Fancy - #love #dogs - A New Beginning by Sally Cronin
morgsbord Blog Magazine Podcast – Flights of Fancy – #love #dogs – A New Beginning by Sally Cronin
As a change of pace I am sharing another story from my Flights of Fancy audio disc that I recorded at the same time as the collection was published 15 years ago. From next week I will be sharing some of the short stories from the other collections to hopefully entertain you through the rest of the summer.
A new beginning in a home in the mountains of Wales with everything before them, a young…
morgsbord Blog Magazine Podcast - Flights of Fancy - #love #dogs - A New Beginning by Sally Cronin
morgsbord Blog Magazine Podcast – Flights of Fancy – #love #dogs – A New Beginning by Sally Cronin
As a change of pace I am sharing another story from my Flights of Fancy audio disc that I recorded at the same time as the collection was published 15 years ago. From next week I will be sharing some of the short stories from the other collections to hopefully entertain you through the rest of the summer.
A new beginning in a home in the mountains of Wales with everything before them, a young…
After Danny exposed Vlad and his corrupt dealings, the older halfa got the last laugh by getting his blacklists from all engineering jobs. Desperate for a job Danny ends up applying for a personal assistant position and he actually gets it. It only takes him a week to see how detached Bruce Wayne is from his own company. AND he has his 16 year old son running it as CEO!? No way is he letting that slide.
I present to you the work of another painter of fish plates. Y’know how you use ‘scare quotes’ for various purposes, including indicating that you’re not actually sure about The Thing?
Well, this guy was so bad at whatever he was painting that we call him…
The ‘tadpole’ painter:
Here’s another example:
This one was sold as part of the Graham Geddes collection at Bonham’s auction house in 2008 for £2,040.
They describe it as ‘three fish including a wrasse with dorsal spines, an angler-fish, the rounded body with multiple black dots, two large round eyes with pupils, an open mouth with teeth bared, and a ray with pointed face, the body with multiple black dots’.
Which like… bold fucking move missing out the fact that they have legs. Though I can’t say I envy whoever had to write the description.
genuinely, every single Christmas I say something and my sister looks at me like I'm insane.
I'm not typically wrong---she tried to insist she had no emotions one year, which is flatly incorrect---but also, sometimes it does mean we're at the kitchen table in our parents' house and I say things like, "so, does that mean you don't think about death in a constant, low-level way? not in a scary way! just in a 'huh, if this happened, how would I react, and does this change my perspective on the ontological makeup of the cosmos and the existence or non-existence of god' sort of way."