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A Thief's Tale-KSS-Part 3Needless to say, we werent having the best of luck.
When I hit the ground, it wasnt pretty. The chest that had snagged my cape hit the ground first; and immediately after that, my back slammed into it. A surge of pain seemed to rattle my bones, setting fire to every last one of my nerves. I nearly blacked out, but somehow, I was able to hold on. Maybe it was luck; maybe it was adrenaline; whatever it was, it didnt stop me from feeling like I had been hit by a truck.
I groaned, thinking that the worst was over, but then Storos massive bulk slammed full force into the ground. The resulted shock wave forced everything into the air a few inches, then back down... which for me, resulted in slamming my already-bruised back against the chest again. Yeah, not exactly what I had envisioned; I thought my demise wouldve been much more instant but nope: I had to die the hard way
(Okay, okay, I didnt really die [which is obvious,
A Thief's Tale-KSS-Part 2About an hour later, the Squeaks had moved in. Granted, getting into the castle was tricky, but I wont say how we did it (Actually, I changed my mind; Ill spill: we slammed two guards into each other and knocked them out so we could sneak into the castle undetected. Isnt teamwork great?) Quickly and determined, we made our way down the halls, until we came to a bolted metal door.
Have at it, Storo, we all encouraged. The big Squeak lumbered over to the door, paused, then slammed his fist straight into it, sending it flying off of its hinges and into the room. The sound of something slamming into coins was enough to send all of us rushing in, eager to examine our find.
The treasure room was beyond our wildest dreams. Treasure chests stood back against the wall like guards on post, their regal appearances almost inviting us to go in. Most of them were empty, for their contents (gold, gems, and all sorts of shiny things) were piled in the center of the
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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