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Literature Text
Who's lived in apartments all over New York?
Percy Jackson!
Stupid and awesome and just a plain dork!
Percy Jackson!
If fighting the Titans be something you wish
Percy Jackson!
You can find him at Camp! (I hope you like fish)
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
PERCYYY JACKSOOOONNNN!!!
Percy Jackson!
Stupid and awesome and just a plain dork!
Percy Jackson!
If fighting the Titans be something you wish
Percy Jackson!
You can find him at Camp! (I hope you like fish)
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
Percy Jackson!
PERCYYY JACKSOOOONNNN!!!
Literature
Fixable
Rockets,
Ships,
Typewriters,
Robots,
Ceiling fans,
Flying dragons—
Sure.
Those things are
Fixable.
Mechanisms
Are a breeze.
They don't come with
Pesky things, like
Feelings or
Emotions.
You stare at your friend
Across the table.
Her eyes are a
Dull,
Lifeless
Brown.
(The way they've been
Since he went with
That other girl.)
She is,
In your opinion,
Unfixable.
(But you're going to try.)
Literature
Sunrise
Clarisse stood outside on the fire escape of her Manhattan apartment that she shared with her boyfriend, Chris. They had moved in together the previous year after graduation from collage. It was early morning, July 2nd, she and Chris's seventh anniversary; he was still asleep on their bed, which was just inside from the fire escape.
Clarisse was watching the sunrise. It wasn't a particularly greater view; their fire escape didn't look out over Central Park or the Statue of Liberty, but there was nice sunrise. Not that Clarisse cared: she was never the kind of girl that cared about that sort of stuff. That's what her friend Silena was for, to
Literature
Percy Jackson Short Story 3
(A/N: Before you read this, please read the description, or you will not understand!)
Annabeth, where are you going? Don't leave. I thought to myself in my dream. It had been such a nice dream. I didn't want to wake up, but my eyelids opened anyway. It doesn't matter, now I get to go give my girlfriend a good morning kiss in the real world. I sat up in my bunk, and looked around my cabin. A few dirty shirts spread across the floor, Riptide was lying on my bedside table, the iron hippocampus Tyson built were swaying lightly in the breeze—everything was normal.
I reached over to my nightstand and pulled a pen
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I think I do too many of these.
I think they're gonna get old soon.
I think I don't care.
I think they're gonna get old soon.
I think I don't care.
© 2011 - 2024 ninjadumbledore39
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