The lunar eclipse tonight is the moon’s shiny form.
When your friend’s otp happens to be your notp
all the cool cartoons have a senseless character cluster of an illustration, so here’s one for the achievement hunters’ minecraft lets play series!
please open it in a new tab to view fullsize!
See, what you need to understand is that “Not all guys like that” is never going to work. Because you’re answering an entirely different conversation than what women are actually saying.
You think women are saying “Every man is a predator and a danger to me.” And you’re…
Thermochromic table by Jay Watson
imagine banging someone on that table
imagine being home alone and seeing imprints on that table
Imagine having a friend sit at that table for a long while, but when they get up there’s no imprints at all.
What if you got up after trying to console a crying friend, and found that you had no imprints… and they were crying because they missed you?
aaaah it was a cool table now it’s a horror/drama story
At some point in our lives, we all have to sit at The Table. If you want to drive a car, you must sit at The Table. Same with getting married, having or adopting children, purchasing a home or car by yourself, et cetera. It’s not supposed to be a big deal, but there are people who don’t register, people who scare our government. My friend Lisa is one of them, but she hasn’t sat at The Table. She doesn’t have to. We all know that she was still-born.
Oh, right, the definition of still born was different in your time, I believe. Still-born now means they were born, but already dead, except a few manage to live. Those that do are the still-borns who won’t register, because they technically aren’t alive. But I was excited. Today was the day I’d sit at The Table. I was getting my license.
"Harmony Ruthers." A woman called out, and I stood, my bag at my side. "It’s time." I nodded politely to her, knowing it wasn’t polite to speak here, my younger sister Agatha came in with me, because I was scheduled to watch her today, and they always allowed one person to accompany and sit at the table with you. The woman, who looked to be thirty, nodded to the bench and I sat, Agatha beside me. "Moment of truth it must be Harmony. Stay seated for five minutes, and then we shall see. Now, whilst you sit, I’ll need to gather some information. Please state your full name, age, and date of birth."
"Harmony Samantha Ruthers, 18, March 16th, 1996." I stated clearly, any person in authority did not like mumbling. There were punishments for that in first grade.
"Good, good." The woman answered, she was looking over some form on a silver clipboard, making markings here and there. "Please, stand."
I gulped and pushed myself from The Table, and backed away, bringing Agatha with me. I closed my eyes and held my breath.
"There is one body on this." The woman said. "Congratulations, Harmony."
"What about my sister?"
"Agatha Anne Ruthers, ma’am." I answered.
" I don’t have any Agatha Anne Ruthers in your family unit."
"Excuse me?" I replied, glancing towards Agatha.
"Agatha Anne Ruthers does not exist, now if you’ll stay here a few minutes, I’ll go run and get your license."
"Yes…of course. Thank you." I replied politely once more, and turned to look at my sister, who was nearly in tears and shaking.
"Harmony….I don’t…understand…." Her shaky, nine year old voice spoke quietly and I frowned, still biting my lip. My sister isn’t alive or even there. No one besides myself and my mother can see her.
"Aggie, you’re dead…" I responded, no mumbling, no quiet voice. My sister was dead…but what did that honestly mean?