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Literature Text
A tall girl, called anapests-and-ink
Found herself starting to shrink.
She needed solutions
To make her ablutions:
Now she takes all her baths in the sink.
Found herself starting to shrink.
She needed solutions
To make her ablutions:
Now she takes all her baths in the sink.
![[OPEN] AI Adopt / SerpentSong #5](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/28e9e73b-ef6a-4497-8e2f-1ec8e4d2352d/dg7y4zn-2277d04f-5a39-4cdb-93d2-f98bddeab3a9.png/v1/fit/w_375,h_310,q_70,strp/_open__ai_adopt___serpentsong__5_by_aivhyriel_dg7y4zn-375w.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NjYyIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvMjhlOWU3M2ItZWY2YS00NDk3LThlMmYtMWVjOGU0ZDIzNTJkXC9kZzd5NHpuLTIyNzdkMDRmLTVhMzktNGNkYi05M2QyLWY5OGJkZGVhYjNhOS5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9ODAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.Vi7f18yD_vT-rKVeKdJN15HAZGpvMLKHAWcJTlQnjlE)
Literature
Escaping with style
There were no blaring sirens or flashing lights as I dashed down the corridors, but there might as well have been. Data streaming across one side of my goggles told me that I had successfully triggered the alarm when I took the hard drive stack. I knew I had four and a half minutes until the security forces arrived. When I reached the security door I was already sending signals to my devices connected into the system. A crude video relay looped images of the empty corridor into the security camera feeds. The data mining box cut the stream of keyword-laden signals with which it had been scattering the building system’s attention. Grinning at my own ingenuity, I hit the unlock button. How many other thieves would have got in by manipulating the mood of a building’s computer systems? But then, how many other thieves understood the emergent emotional states of high end electronics? This was why I'd been hired. The door failed to hiss open. Frowning, I slapped the button again. Still
Literature
sweaterse
when you've a love
in repose,
all quiets
are woven together.
all worries and
worships and
weathering
kept, cared,
covered.
every summer
warms, every winter
draws closer.
and the silences
sweeter than
heaven.
Literature
The Resurrectionist
Ilya stands with her wrist arched, a paintbrush poised in the long thin fingers of her left hand. They are artist's fingers, pianist's fingers, the lithe, dextrous, steady fingers of the surgeon. Not even the faintest tremor is evident as she stands to contemplate the work before her, perfectly still... so still that she seems to be chiseled from stone, a work of art herself, not a living creature. Her long dark hair falls waist length down her back in a torrent of curls. A surgical mask is strapped across her face; the faint contraction of the mesh with each intake of breath is the only indication of life.
The whole cold, sterile, harshly l
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An early Christmas present for ~anapests-and-ink ^^ 
© 2013 - 2024 SCFrankles
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Hee. 