Ventomology

Alrighty time's almost up better get this in. My modern dance professor told us that modern dance focuses on the root of movement. Fingertips pull fingers pull palms. Hands pull ...

Hunter are you taking inspiration from Fox on these titles

24. 明 My glasses reside in a gold, silk case. Black calligraphy curls from its corners, and delicate square seals decorate its sides. These motifs are Mine. The sun and ...

23. I bought new shoes— black, black boots, roomy in the toes, with knit ribbing, quilted leather, shiny, silver, zippers, and black, black souls soles.

22. My body is brass— brash, strong —shaped of crass metals, leaving fly ash. My shield is nickel, my skin is tin, and roiling oils tickle the fickle parts and ...

21. Collegiate rowers row on beat, steady, ready, all in sync. I pushed off the gravel shore paddling faster than ‘ere before. And now, never will I meet, my deadlines. ...

That last line is so fitting.

20. I wish zits were like wit. Brevity is it.

So I watch a dnd live play thing called Critical Role, and since they're not meeting during quarantine, they streamed a cute game called "narrative telephone" so they could keep ...

19. Sunday Sonnet No. 3 - an Ode to my Hometown, Plutopia Nostalgia paints a perfect picture here of pleasant play beneath a pristine sky, but as pale ice cream ...

18. Oh, the joy of a breath well spent! An exclamation, an exhalation, My mouth on metal, air rushes out, and the bell of my horn resounds so loud, that ...

17. How nice it must be to indulge in sunny afternoon naps, the scintillating scritch of grass, the soft comfort of a firm hand, a body with warm, close pressure. ...

Here we are! Good luck everyone! She smells my blood. The sharp shard of a shell slices my sole, and red seeps into the sand, spills into the sea. The ...

16. How does confidence grow? Does it grow like a maple, steady, sturdy, slow, and strong, or like a douglas fir, fast, hard, straight as an arrow? Does it wind ...

15. The grass threads through my toes, and the wind combs my hair. Spring’s great hunting horn summons me outdoors, where I belch. That’s nature y’all.