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A Familiar FaceA young boy rummaged through a garbage can, overlooked by a stone gargoyle, not some five metres above. Perched on the eaves of a Renaissance style building near the heart of London. The gargoyle could see all that happened on the street below, from the most insignificant mouse, scrambling to find enough food to last another day, to the wealthy businessman, racing past in their newly acquired Bently. But that was not all this Gargoyle had seen. Much was sealed within the stone. From the moment it was mounted, it recorded what it saw, never missing a thing. 300 years of observing had left it with little space in it’s hard head to observe and rA Familiar Face
by ~Bliss1
GargoylesMy bedroom is what many people would describe as different. Of course I have the essentials; a bed, a lamp, an alarm clock, all nestled amongst my cluttered variety of oddities, the things that make my room my own. I’ve got a turtle shell, a miniaturized skeleton, box after box filled with modest nick knacks. I’ve got collections. Buddha figures, Devil Ducks, books… I have at least 50 in my room, in two separate bookshelves, pressed against the dark burgundy walls, accented by pictures of angels and Einstein. On one shelf I house my larger books, along with my other sets of items. The other shelf is different. It’s made of musty, dark old wooGargoyles
by ~Crotchety-Grandma
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come let me take you come sing with me come i wont bite 'hard' come i will kill your first born come with me listen to my story a story of limbo
Oh and welcome to DA
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Well, everyone needs a little change. Even if it is to another species.
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