*stardestroyr

Karly Noelle Abreu

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About Me Premium Member General Writer Karly Noelle Abreu19/Female/United States

Recent Activity Deviant for 3 Years
8 Month Premium Membership:
Given by *sequekhan

Statistics 190 Deviations
1,846 Comments
4,071 Pageviews

The Cellist's Wife

Aubrey is holding her again. As he has held her everyday for many weeks. She is his one true love. I watch him from the doorway of his studio, embracing her. I envy the way he lays her body against him, the way his legs fit around her so perfectly, the way they seem made for one another. He told me, when we married, that he would never love another more than me, but I can see it. He adores her. And how can I deny him the beauty and purity of his love? The world is so lacking in a love like theirs. When he slides his bow over her strings, the singing of the vibration, there is nothing like it. Aubrey’s cello is the woman he longs for, the

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TowersYou were my favorite building, sturdy looking, a skyscraper reaching for God.  I would prop myself against you as a ladder, and climb you until I met the clouds.
I had brought my paint to cover you in something fresh and new, to cover the blemishes left by careless tenants and tourists who lay on your floor to take photographs. But when I got there, I lost the bucket and the brush in horror.
As I watched,  I found out that you aren't up to regulations. Your foundation breaks when the earth shakes, your ceiling caves with the slightest tremor from the earth. You cannot stand up to the S Towers
by *stardestroyr

Somewhere Only We Know
by *stardestroyr

The TelevangelistPeople naturally assume that televangelists are selling something, and it was true. Pastor Paul Baker was selling something, only he did not find anything in the least shady about it. To him, the word of God was air tight and unshakable and the masses needed it and moreover, needed to realize how much they needed it. So every day, smiling bright, he would step on the gaudy fake set, and deliver what he believed were the words of God almighty.
Today, Teresa, his sister and assistant on-set hurried to him bearing several sheets of paper and a flustered expression.
"Listen, Paul. We're way down in numbers." The Televangelist
by *stardestroyr

Other Breakable ObjectsGemma balanced the groceries precariously on her hip while she knocked on the door of the little brown brick house.
"Hayley, it's me. And it's freezing so hurry!" She called when she heard footsteps approaching the door. It creaked open to reveal a tall woman with somewhat unkempt dishwater hair. She looked at Gemma for a moment.
"What on earth is that?"
"Treats! Open up."
Hayley pulled the door open wider and stepped aside as Gemma hurried in with her bags. She nearly toppled onto the kitchen counter with her load as Hayley shut the door behind them. Gemma brushed snowflakes from her hair a Other Breakable Objects
by *stardestroyr

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Clocktown

Chester BlindedOutside, in West Clocktown, the sound of the Clock boomed out the hour six times. Twilight was settling on the city, slow and pink. In the Mayor’s offices, Chester was leaning against the side of his desk, drumming his fingers lightly across the side of it. He stared out of the window, watching snow flurries spiral down from the chilly January skies. His eyes were shifting, a cold gleaming grey faded to a pitch black, then back. It was odd. He kept blinking, even knowing it was futile. When Annalise came into his office, he stared at her hard, and his eyes ceased their shift, settling firmly in a cold grey. He tossed his long braid of fa Chester Blinded
by *stardestroyr

SightValentine put the thread in her mouth, then, one eye closed, pushed it through the eye of the needle. She tied it in a knot and plunged it into the coat. She began stitching quickly, absentmindedly. She looked up at the man leaning against her wall. She opened her mouth to speak and was interrupted by the chiming of the Clock. It only sounded four times, and she didn’t take her eyes off of him. Her eyebrows raised slightly.
“I don’t know how you live there, Clock tower Man.”
He rolled his eyes and thumped the floor with the edge of his boot. “The day you call me Silas I’ll be struck by lighten Sight
by *stardestroyr

Chester and the BloodbirdsChester tapped on the door-frame to the little storefront. A hooded figure, face invisible, opened it, did not move for a moment, and then opened it wider. Chester slipped inside. The room was low, and dark, typical of most buildings in the Pit, the poorest and most pathetic sector in West Clocktown, where the people loved lace, spoons, and spitting at the poor.
Chester, as a general rule, never spit. It was not gentlemanly, regardless of how loosely he defined the term.
“Mister Chester, been a while,” the figure said. The voice was distinctly female, but everything else about it was indefinite, shifting. It sometimes Chester and the Bloodbirds
by *stardestroyr

Annalise and the HouseIt had been pouring rain for almost a month, the sort of rain that freezes halfway down and becomes sleet. It bit into Annalise’s skin as she stood outside the house on Kipling Street. Being honest with herself, she did not want to go inside. It was too cold inside. Colder than any freezing rain. And so she simply stood, peering up at the house that she had practically grown up in. She shivered, and looked down at her feet. No amount of prayer could have warmed them at this point. She tapped the heel of her left boot against the fence surrounding the house. As she looked up, the door opened, like a portal to another world. And out steppe Annalise and the House
by *stardestroyr

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Critiques

Milky Way

by ~autumn-ethereal

This is an image that truly takes my breath away. The capture of the subtleties of the lighting on the mountains in the distance, the p...

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Fave News

65 Creative Nonfiction Contest - Sep 1, 2009
39 THE LIT LIST: Issue No. 36 - Aug 8, 2009
9 RenderWonderland's Official Chatroom Launched! - Jun 28, 2009
24 The PhotoLit Prompt (What We Need) - Jun 27, 2009
88 The PhotoLit Prompt - Jun 16, 2009

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Nov 21, 2009 @ 3:24 pm
=bekkia
Nov 19, 2009 @ 6:12 pm
=xo-sunny-ox
Nov 11, 2009 @ 8:04 am
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Nov 11, 2009 @ 4:39 am
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Nov 10, 2009 @ 2:17 pm
*BlonderMoment

Maybe Someday...

Journal Entry: Thu Nov 19, 2009, 3:35 PM

I won't be in pain. And I won't be afraid.
And the glory of God will come down from on high
and put us in the clothing we always knew we wore.

9 Comments | Previous Journal Entries

Mood: Content
Listening to: Aquarium water being filtered
Reading: Dracula by Bram Stoker
Drinking: Organic Mango Apricot Juice

Skin by `ginkgografix

deviantID

I am a noun who writes about fictional nouns.

Devious Info

Current Residence: Los Angeles
Interests: Rumpots, crackpots, and how are you today, Mr. Wilson?
Favourite movie: Beauty and the Beast, The Return of the Jedi, Howl's Moving Castle
Favourite band or musician: mewithoutYou, Thrice, Sigur Rós, Mute Math, Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Wolfgang Mozart, etc.
Favourite genre of music: No preference- there is beauty in all of it.
Favourite artist: Eyvind Earle, Guiliano Giuggioli, Edmund Blair Leighton, Vladimir Kush, John Waterhouse
Favourite poet or writer: C.S. Lewis
Favourite style of art: Beautiful and Intelligent
Operating System: Coca-Cola
Skin of choice: The kind that melts off when the bass starts to run through your sneakers.
Favourite game: Okami, Twilight Princess, Kingdom Hearts, ICO, Ocarina of Time, Harvest Moon 64
Favourite cartoon character: Ones voiced by Kevin Conroy. Also the Question. And the Joker. And Blooregard Q. Kazoo. And Belle.
Personal Quote: The truth belongs to God...the mistakes were mine.
Tools of the Trade: Pens with strong caps for biting