(no subject)
Well here's my input into all of this. So tell me, Do you see pictures in my words?
The glass vase flew through the air, in a blurring slow motion. Small rounded droplets of water flew out of the top following the paths that the elegant stems of red roses had traced through the air moments ago. Petals creating a swirling vortex of velvet red as they fluttered towards the ground, ignorant of their impending doom. The vase rotated, spinning along it’s inevitable path towards the mirror. When it finally hit, the noise started off with a soft tap, before the sound waves billowed out, their crashes and sharp clinks deafening. Blending with her scream of conflicting fury and despair. Time slowed further as both the mirror and vase exploded into the atmosphere. Shards of glass splintering into wicked slivers, slicing through the air. Reflecting in their hundreds of small worlds shattered fragments of the room, shattered fragments of eternity, locked in broken glass. Possibilities that could have been frozen in their impenetrable glare. The pieces fell like an unearthly rain storm upon the wooden floor. With clinical sounding clicks as their edges pounded the ground. A hundred staring eyes fixed upon the ceiling.
With the shattering of the vase it seemed that all her dreams were broken, lost like the form of the vase so lovingly shaped by the hands of its creator. Stuck in the shards of glass that now littered the floor. Needle sharp reminders of what could have been. The glass that was crushed as his heavy industrial boots advanced upon her trembling body. Crimson blood splattered among the fragments, and the glass reflected that too. Later, it reflected the flashing lights, the yellow tape and the flash of camera bulbs. They say that in one moment our lives are changed forever. One day, the glass will reflect something for you too. What will it be?
The glass vase flew through the air, in a blurring slow motion. Small rounded droplets of water flew out of the top following the paths that the elegant stems of red roses had traced through the air moments ago. Petals creating a swirling vortex of velvet red as they fluttered towards the ground, ignorant of their impending doom. The vase rotated, spinning along it’s inevitable path towards the mirror. When it finally hit, the noise started off with a soft tap, before the sound waves billowed out, their crashes and sharp clinks deafening. Blending with her scream of conflicting fury and despair. Time slowed further as both the mirror and vase exploded into the atmosphere. Shards of glass splintering into wicked slivers, slicing through the air. Reflecting in their hundreds of small worlds shattered fragments of the room, shattered fragments of eternity, locked in broken glass. Possibilities that could have been frozen in their impenetrable glare. The pieces fell like an unearthly rain storm upon the wooden floor. With clinical sounding clicks as their edges pounded the ground. A hundred staring eyes fixed upon the ceiling.
With the shattering of the vase it seemed that all her dreams were broken, lost like the form of the vase so lovingly shaped by the hands of its creator. Stuck in the shards of glass that now littered the floor. Needle sharp reminders of what could have been. The glass that was crushed as his heavy industrial boots advanced upon her trembling body. Crimson blood splattered among the fragments, and the glass reflected that too. Later, it reflected the flashing lights, the yellow tape and the flash of camera bulbs. They say that in one moment our lives are changed forever. One day, the glass will reflect something for you too. What will it be?