|Based on my short story: ranki-chee.deviantart.com/art/…|
Bittersweet Paris - Chapter Seventeen -Chapter Seventeen:Bittersweet Paris - Chapter Seventeen - by Ranki-Chee
It’s about half past seven in the morning on the last day of the trip and ready to head home. Scott wakes up to see the morning cracking through the curtains. He gets up and opens them wide to look down at the pavement, he watches a couple of people walking by and listens to sound of pigeons fluttering their wings. The sky looks bright but with white clouds crowding. Toby shuffles about in his bed, almost like a rousing blob, and he lifts his head up from inside the coverlets with a big yawn. He rubs his left eye and turns back at Scott.
‘Good morning,’ he smiles sleepily. ‘When do we have to get to Calais?’
‘About ten to eleven,’ replies Scott. ‘But we’ve got enough time.’
Toby slides his legs over the edge of the bed, and stretches out his arms with a smaller yawn. ‘I’ll let you go first for the shower.’
‘Okay Tobs. I won’t be too long.’
Scott grabs all his
The Final Term - Chapter Ten -Chapter Ten:The Final Term - Chapter Ten - by Ranki-Chee
Gene and Jolene’s Dance
Summer fair, and the sun greets it with a bright, warm glow glaring across the windows. The colourful streamers gently sway from side to side, by the cool, sharp draft coming through the open doors in the main reception. Students march in and out of the college, some are on their short breaks, and others are re-entering for their next class, almost baking from the warm sunny weather outside.
Scott and Kayleigh are the only ones in the art room, once again, but that’s what they love, to have an empty, quiet classroom all for themselves, and Kayleigh would obliged to turn on the music in her CD player again. Scott busily traces out his anatomy skeleton on a small piece of A4 paper, occasionally making quick glances back at his canvas. His doodle sheet of his De la Mort and young John sketches sit next to him, as a helpful reference if he wishes to try and sketch out either of the two characters. Although Scott has hardly knew any of
MunecaMuñecaMuneca by Ranki-Chee
A waxing moon floats over the night sky. It trails behind lavender coloured clouds, forming intricate swirling patterns, while high above, tiny white stars sparkle. Seagulls glide, their faint shadows playing along the waters below. The Puppis, a steam powered air-ship, lies suspended below its air-sac. It sails an airy sea, driven by a small propeller, its wings cutting through a thickening mist. Captain Frank gazes out towards darker shades of sky. He’s seated on the edge of his craft, legs kicking out over the side. Planted on his head is a wide brimmed hat, slumped tightly over his eyes, weighted down by goggles fixed about the crown. He crunches the red apple in his right hand. It tastes sweet with a honey fragrance. The deck creaks. Dark clouds thicken, engulfing the moon, and the temperature falls. There’s a soft rumble gathering in the clouds, which suddenly bursts, sending wind and rain, battering the Puppis from side to side. Captain Frank toppl
The Robin - POEM -The RobinThe Robin - POEM - by Ranki-Chee
Blood moon pours,
Oozing its scarlet robe upon
The death beds of stirring souls
Sleeping beneath verdant knolls.
White wisps hum a chorus
Of lives they’ve left behind,
Mourning a lament
Under the red caked churchyard.
Night’s great light,
Enrobes the beds with one final lunge,
The night cracks, parting a void
As dawn’s embers rise.
Frost melts, creaking, snapping
Above the souls’ resting place,
The spirits, glowing cleaners in the courtyard,
Gust away latent ice and snow.
Morning brings children
Beyond the churchyard wall,
Playing, laughing, singing,
As a lone figure slips away.
A robin still on a branch,
Its breast illuminated,
As if shot, but not.
A young boy stoops,
Kneeling by the bed of one departed,
And places, roses, red as the dawn,
Their petals closed in sleep.
The robin swoops
Onto a guardian grave stone,
Head dancing, listening,
The robin sings
A melody reassuringly familiar,
Warms the visitor
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'Nothing happens unless first we dream' - Carl Sandburg <33
I've claimed Claus of Mother 3 from Claim-A-Person! Gotta love the big mush <3 xD
Enter stranger to my dA page!
Ranki (or Chee from some people xDD) is at your service! My real name is Emily =w=
I'm an amateur writer, currently writing stories around my characters, and hopeful to get them published...one day. Despite editing and rewriting them I try as much as I can to give out its wit and charm. I also draw, be it fan art or for my characters, depending on my mood, and if procrastination doesn't win me over. xD
If you don't know this already (then you should now), but I have high-functioning autism. I was diagnosed when I was 3. I'm not afraid to admit it with truth and honesty. I also have Fragile X syndrome.
I'm friendly enough to say hi. So don't be afraid to post a comment on my page or on my arts here.
See you next time!