

WishesPlunk. A quarter fell into the rustic pot set infront of the the child's feet. A beggar. Her eyes turned to the demon-man before her, scanning his features, his wings; this one was certainly an unfortunate being. Four fangs remained brandished in an awful frown of his, and his gaze remained averted.Wishes
"That's right kind of you..Would you like make a wish? Fortune favours those who give."
Laughter. Bitter-sweet. Masked in hatred, rooted in thick irony and longing.
"I wish to see an Angel."
~*~*~*~
Plunk. A lone penny settled itself into the beggar's pot. Giggling, afterwards. The w


WaitingWaiting has never bothered me before. When I was first started, it was my Creator's dream to make something perfect, and I knew that perfection could take a life-time. I have no record, no sense of time; but my Creator has shown me just how long has passed. In the start, her hands were soft, small, so delicate and innocent. I knew it must have been a young girl; my Goddess. My sense of days came afterwards, when I was on my own during what I learned to be Night, and what I learned to be Day was when she worked on me. Many days would go by at times when I never felt her, but she always returned; crafting limbs, removing them, adding warmth andWaiting