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Old Man and SonThe boy sat with his frame tense and his hand in his pocket. As the old man sat down in the feeble chair next to boy, his face grimacedOld Man and Son
revealing the years that seemed to never be apparent before. But now they were
all his family could see. Like the weathered slopes of once great mountains, the
scars of time upon him leave his children with remorse. The father that protected
them when they were in need, or guided them when they had lost their way
seemed to be gray. Now, there sat an old man. Eyes cast low, lost in better days.
“She once looked at me like no other,” the
by ~the1stgeo
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- Current Residence: wisconsin USA
- Favourite movie: not sure anymore...hmm hmm
- Favourite band or musician: It's always an evolution isn't it?
- Favourite genre of music: new age, industrial, metal, alternative, gothic, indie, disco, dancing music, rock?, whatever
- Favourite artist: Maynard James Keenen
- Favourite poet or writer: James Joyce/Orson Scott Card
- Favourite style of art: whatever
- Operating System: xp
- MP3 player of choice: winamp
- Favourite game: Scrabble, FF7, FFT, silent hill genre, metal gear genre
- Favourite cartoon character: shit, idk..a tie between aladin and poo bear...
- Personal Quote: "I have become Death, destroyer of Worlds!"
- Tools of the Trade: my mitts
- Email: gsanchez@edgewood.edu
- AIM: the1stgeo
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Customer in a Barnes and Noble: Do you sell any books on how to cook with weed?
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