SablexScriptor

 { Home of the Prompt: pin.it/1M75QFJ }      A loud crash came from downstairs, and Vance sat up, startled awake. He turned towards his night stand and fumbled around until he felt a pair of familiar wire frame glasses. He put them on before turning on the lamp at his bedside. He got up, and stumbled out of bed, cold hardwood flooring making him wince as he left his room and hurried down the steps. A few journals and his pen holder were all on the floor, and up on the table stood his more mischievous cat, John.      "Johnathan, really? You know better than to throw my things around." Vance grumbled, moving to shoo the cat. The cat's focus

       He had thousands of pictures, some in black and white, some in colour. The quality of the pictures improved the further one got down the hall. The only exception to that rule was the paintings, each one hanging carefully and treated gently so they wouldn’t be ruined with time. He could remember each face, each voice, as if he had just heard them yesterday.       He gently tacked another picture to his wall, black suit sleeve a sharp contrast to the light elements of the image. She had been so pretty, light blonde hair and ice blue eyes. Always paired with a big white smile. After some time she had lost her hair, instead wrappin

    The echoing screech was the last thing I heard. The chill of the air, and the way time had seemed to slow down as the one ton hunk of metal painted a very pretty blue came rushing at me. I could see the driver’s face through the glass, her expression of horror as she leaned back, pulling on her wheel as if that would stop the car’s momentum as it slid on the ice. I couldn’t move, it was like I was frozen. When I closed my eyes, that was it, I didn’t feel anything.      Hours, or perhaps even days later, my mind returned to me. The first thing I was aware of was a dryness in my mouth, that thick cotton feeling tha

      Snow fell down in large fat flakes around the city, blanketing everything and hushing the world. Dark eyes gazed out the window, watching people move to and fro, splotches of colour shown between the dark winter jackets and the white snow. Mostly red scarves or hats, drawing attention for brief moments, before passing by the window. The cafe itself was warm, the chatter of the surrounding people making it easier to relax. Richard greatly needed the chance to relax, his nerves leaving him on edge.      A flash of blue stood out from the winter scene, a bright blue scarf weaving between people on the streets. The owner of the scarf duck