on a sixpence

A London bookshelf, part 20

New Sights of London by Hugh Casson, is a London Transport sixpenny paperback, published in 1938, featuring some 700 examples of modern architecture, all within reach of the LT network. So as well as the Denham film studios, above, there are buildings as perky as a Berlei bra in Slough, and as fair faced as Fairacres in Roehampton.

Casson is as opinionated as Pevsner or Nairn here, with trenchant opinions about prevailing architectural trends. He also contributes some appealing line drawings of many of the featured buildings.

“Everybody is interested in modern architecture”, says the jacket blurb optimistically, “but does everybody know where it can be seen?” Sixpence would provide the answers in 1938, about £15 for a secondhand copy now.

The Healing Process.

My sister doesn’t even stir when he enters my room. His footsteps are silent, but the air gets so cold that I see my breath. My little sister shivers and cuddles even closer to me, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist. I hope she stays asleep.

I know he’s tall and thin, but that’s all I can see. My room is so dark that everything else about him is masked in shadows. My breathing picks up. He’s standing by my side of the bed.

He stares at me and as he does, the spots where his eyes should be begin to glow an eerie and vacant white. He continues to stare at me, unblinking and still. Finally he moves.

He lifts his hand up and gently places his bony and icy thumb to the swollen part of my left eye. He rubs it soothingly. I still don’t move. He adds more chilling fingers to my face and gently trails them down my cheek where an old scar is before he runs his index and middle fingers over my lips. The swelling has gone down, but my bottom lip is still split.

His hand leave my face and moves to my arm. He grabs my right wrist and pulls it up to examine. My self-made marks of mutilation have faded, but are still fairly easy to spot if one is looking closely.

The noise that emerges from his throat is soft, but there is the faintest emotion of despair and amusement to it.

He delicately places it back on my bed and then picks up my left arm. And now his hold on me tightens painfully, but I still don’t make a sound and my sister still remains asleep. And that’s all that matters.

He chuckles as he trails his cold fingers over my freshest cuts and they bleed through the hastily-made bandages I put over them. But these self-made cuts are different from all my others. These cuts weren’t made in a fit of rage or in a moment of selfish weakness where I forgot about my sister and wished for death.

No, this new cuts are…pretty. They are more carefully made and decorate my arm with beautiful dripping red designs of eyes, pentacles, numbers and symbols I don’t understand and didn’t bother to look up. What I put on my arm made no difference to me. All that matters is that it worked.

His lips part and I see a mouthful of sharp yellow teeth smiling at me. He leans closer to me until his lips touch my ear. Cold, he’s so cold.

“Slow or quick?” His voice is soft and whispery, but I still hear the amusement and pity laced with each word.

I look at my sister. I can’t see her newest set of bruises in the dark, but I know they’re there.

“Slow,” I hiss.

He chuckles again and leaves my room. I hear my parents scream. I smile, hugging my sister closer.


The whole setting screams childhood sweethearts. Levi takes Erwin out on a date on a warm summer night, in their home town or something. They go to the park or somewhere green. There’s some kind of small feast with a band and dancing couples, so they end up dancing awkwardly but very closely too.
Later they walk barefoot in the grass, shoes in hand, wearing nice shirts and maybe a vest, trouserlegs a bit rolled up. Their little fingers are linked and Levi walks slightly before Erwin because hes dragging him somewhere. They end up kissing in the moonlight, Levi’s hands framing Erwin’s face and Erwin’s hand in Levi’s hair and on his hip. When they part they giggle and smile a bit and share another soft kiss.
They stumble home in the morning, still smiling and softly laughing, shoes still in hand and shirts wrinkled because they kissed in the grass while watching the stars. They’re yawning between kisses and are so so tired and Erwin still hums a song they listened to while dancing.

I just want that warm fuzzy feeling that those awful 90s songs and films give you, just with Eruris.

The First Girl.

She’s perfect.

“So, are we gonna go to your place after this?” she asks.

Met her this month. It’s been rough, really. Seven months, seven girls. But I have a good feeling about her.

“Uh, hello?”

I come back to reality with a start. “Oh, um, oh. Sorry, I uh, was distracted by your… your eyes.”

Grey-green. God’s gift to her. And me.

She laughs. Rests her chin on the back of her hand. She’s tempting me, and by God it’s working.

“So?” Jessica asks.

“Uh, so what?” Smooth.

“Are we going to your place?”

I hesitate. Going back to my place is the last thing I want to do. She licks her lips while I waste seconds, blinks three times, coughs into her hand, then blinks two more times. I cannot take my eyes off her.

“Well, um, I have some, you know, cleaning up to do, and I’m not really sure if…” I unravel my excuse. “I mean, you’re place is fine.”

“Oh, come on! We’ve been going to my place for weeks,” she pouts. “It’s getting kind of… boring.”

The waiter comes around with our orders. Thank God. Maybe now, she’ll…

“So? What about it?” she asks.


“Uh, well, maybe…” What could go wrong? Maybe it’ll be okay. I notice her smile, that dazzling smile, start to wilt. “Well, um, yeah, sure. Why not?” The corners of her mouth go right back up.

The jazz band plays on as we talk. About things.

“You know, I never asked you. Did you have anyone before me?”

She hesitates.

“Don’t worry. I’ve told you before, I’ve had my fair share of women as well.”

She laughs, I guess to break the tension. “Yeah, a few.”

“They treated you alright?”

“Some of them, yeah. Nothing much. It’s in the past anyway.”

I don’t know what to say. I have my lips half parted. Instead, I close them, put my hand over hers. There are just some things that don’t need to be said. Five minutes of silence between us. Five minutes of heaven.

“So, your place?” she asks.

I nearly have a breakdown then and there. I pull myself together. “Mhm, yeah, just have to pay for this. God damnit, why do they take so long with the bill?”

Took them another fifteen minutes to bring the bill over, another five to pay. Never going there again. The drive over to my place was long and silent. She was looking at me the whole time. I guess she could see me hyperventilating.

“God damn, I must look like a creep, don’t I?” I joke.

At least I did something right. We were laughing all the five minutes it took us to reach my place.

“Nah, nah, I understand. You’re nervous.” she says as she climbs out of the car.

When I open the door, she starts laughing again. “Where’s that mess you were talking about?” The place was spotless.

We sit down in front of the television, watch some soap opera. I’m not even paying attention. All I can feel is the warmth of her body curled up against me. I didn’t want to lose her. I couldn’t lose her.

The credits roll. “Would you mind me sleeping over tonight?” asks Jessica.

I want to say no. Please, just let me say no. “Yeah, why not?”

We talk a bit before we go to sleep. “So, what about the first one?” she asks.

“The-the first one? The first one of what?” I ask her.

“The first girl you ever met. The only one you ever married?” she replies.

“Oh, um, yeah. What about her?”

“How was she? How did you and her…”

“She… she was the best woman I ever met. Just like you. She loved me. Not just my looks, she loved my personality. She was always interested in me, the things I did, where I went, what I did. She was always there to support me. I guess that’s why I married her.”

“How did she leave you?” asks Jessica.

“She… didn’t. She fell down the stairs. Broke her neck.”

“What, I… I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault. It’s okay,” I sigh. “You know, she was always so possessive. Almost never left my side. I never though that I would be the one to lose her. She was so possessive.”

Jessica’s breathing slows down, becomes deep and uniform. Fast asleep.

“She still is,” I mutter.

I have trouble falling asleep that night. I just stare at the ceiling, listening to Jessica’s breathing. Maybe it would be alright.

When I wake up, Jessica was rolled away from me. I pray. I pray for ten long minutes. Then finally, I reach out with my hand, search for her. Touch a cold, still mass.

I start to cry. Cold, dead tears roll down my face. I sit up, turn her over, stare into her face, her bloody, empty eye sockets.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have,” I speak to her corpse. I understand once again the meaning of too little, too late. Like I have seven times before. The ninth girl I ever loved, the eighth girl that died by my hands, dead because I couldn’t help myself.

It’s in the corner. Like always. I turn to face it. A black, rotting body covered in writhing shadows. A bent and twisted neck.

“Why? Why?” I scream at it. “If you ever loved me, you’d let me move on. Why wont you let me move on!?”

It doesn’t speak. Just floats there. Watching me with, dull, glassy, unmoving eyes. There’s no point in reasoning with it. It’s not her, I tell myself. It’s just a spirit, a part of her. A part that refuses to let me fucking move on.

There’s no point. I turn away and pick up the eighth girl. No, not the eighth girl. Jessica. I pick up Jessica.

I drive for three straight hours. Take the shovel out of the back. Dig the eighth grave. Bury my mistake.

And try to prepare for the mistakes that are yet to happen.

 Love Of Mine… || A playlist for girls who like girls.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark Jayme Dee // Rude Kina Grannis // Chocolate Lily Ahlberg // There She Goes Sixpence None The Richer // Take Me To Church Neon Jungle // For My Lover Tracy Chapman // Not Going To Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance Kate Nash // Let Her Go Nicole Cross // She Dodie Clark // She’s So High Mia Wray.


anonymous asked:

“london, february 1, 1812. have spent 14 shillings and 6 pence magnificently, i.e., like an ass” - Aaron Burr

Anonymous said: Apparently spending 14 shillings and sixpence “like an ass” means Burr purchased a coconut.

I hope he just went “screw it” later and enjoyed the hell out of that coconut

fave songs:

antarctica - suicide boys
hair - suicide boys
dead batteries - suicide boys
vices - suicide boys
the road to hell is highway 59 - suicide boys x ramirez
my flaws burn through my skin like demonic flames from hell - suicideboys
i like bricks - ski mask the slump god
psycho - ski mask the slump god
fucked up - lil peep
girls - lil peep
walk away as the door slams - lil peep
life - lil peep
freaking out the neighborhood - mac demarco
chamber of reflection - mac demarco
ode to viceroy - mac demarco
my kind of woman - mac demarco
goodbye weekend - mac demarco
power - young thug
love song - 311
dani california - red hot chili peppers
californiacation - red hot chili peppers
art deco - lana del rey
kiss me - sixpence none the richer
voice carry - til’ tuesday

A Sixpence Song

Chapter 2: My Darling

Sequel to The Notebook On the Bed. Prompt 2: Mistake/Faith

Keith writes poems in a notebook, a hobby that he rarely partakes in. It’s strange imagining a brooding, dark-haired teen writing poems about flowers and feelings, but then again…

I thought you could’ve been something great, but I guess you’re just a dropout.”

“It’s such a shame to see a young man throw his life away like that, without rational thought.”

“Oh what do you know, dropout?”

“You threw away your chance to be something good in this world, you know that? Threw it away on the hope for a dead man.”

We can’t let him stay, he’s Galran! Who knows what he’ll do!”

“My family is gone because of his kind, my entire planet! All my people! I will not let one of them on my ship, as a Paladin!”

“We were supposed to be fighting Galrans. Isn’t that what we’ve been doing? What do we do now?”

Maybe it’s not difficult to imagine him doing that after all.

Keep reading

hi-eddie  asked:

Deberías hacer un playlist de tus canciones preferidas. :3

Bueno, he escrito varias por acá…pero ahora haré la lista de canciones del siglo pasado, para ser felices tantito…no pongo muchas, pero pongo una que otra representativa…Disculpa la antigüedad…Y como en la poesía, cuesta decirdirse… :)

Canciones felices y viejitas

What’s up…4 Non blondes

Kiss me…Sixpence non the richer

Half the world away… Oasis

Close to you…The carpenters

My girl… The temptations

Uptown girl… Billy Joel

Nothing’s gonna stop us now…Starship

Karma kamaleon…Culture club

How deep is your love…Bee gees

Revolution…The beatles