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Vamos, mira... el mundo explota...
Don’t look my friend, in the dark when you sleep, when you dream within a dream and can’t wake up, when you hear the click of claws on a polished floor, see the amber circles glowing in the black.
My accountant is an annoying man. Short. Brown hair. Too young and naive at the first interview to realize what sort of work I do. Not stupid enough to remain oblivious to my schemes once inside, but too scared to leave. It helps that there are numerous difficult clauses in the contract designed to keep employees trapped. Pointing the revolver at him when he threatened to quit also seemed to aid his decision to continue working for me. Who knows why.
“Mr Ellis, sir?” He sounds shakier than usual.
Leaning back in my big leather chair, I ignore him for a minute. Then I sigh. “What is it, Jeeves.”
“I– I– have something to discuss with you, please?”
I grit my teeth. If this is another problem with the books, I swear I’ll…
Swiveling my chair around, there are three loud bangs. There is a black-clad agent in the doorway. This moment outlines itself clearly in my mind. Jeeves, released and thrown back into the corner with his arms over his face. The agent’s tight uniform, straight pants and shiny boots, her jet-black hair in a long braid that drapes over her shoulder. Her face, youthful yet lined, not made-up, big, blue eyes behind the smoking gun.
My accountant is an annoying man. Disloyal. Traitor. He’s ended my career.
“Don’t waste your time looking up, darling.” A voice, once smooth like water running over rocks, voice now broken and high-pitched. He knew whose voice it was. “Even if you could see there’s nothing here worth looking at.”
“Where am I?” He rasped the question.
“You know where you are,” she replied. Indeed he did. He knew where she had taken him. By the feel of the damp concrete, the taste of the darkness. Darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.
He felt her shifting closer, her breath on his skin, dirty fingers tugging at the fabric of his shirt. She laughed softly as he tried to move, tried to drag himself away from her. “Don’t waste your time trying to run, darling,” she whispered. “Even if you could move there is nowhere to go.”
For anyone who doesn’t know how to use Gimp or the other similar layered programs. Just felt like doing a how-to, lol.
2. On another layer go over the lines you want to keep with a thinner brush of a different color. Lowering the transparency of the previous layer makes it easier to see what you’re doing. Making the previous layer invisible lets you see the lines much more clearly and what it’s going to look like; any changes that need to be made should be made now.
3. Black lines. These lines you don’t want to have to change. (I often end up adjusting these too, though.)
4. Extra black lines go on a separate layer. This is so you can select and fill the clear regions of the black lines layer.
5. Color! Use “wand” tool to select enclosed areas on the black lines layer. Create a new layer and fill the selection with your desired color. (A new layer for each color may be preferable.) Click Select>To Path, then Select>None, then Edit>Stroke Path. (Choose an appropriate stroke width.) This gets rid of the white line left by the selection. [Hey, if you know a better way to do this, please tell me! =D]
Export as whatever file format you want (.png, .jpg etc.) because .xcf is only for editing inside Gimp. Aaand you’re done! Hope that was useful! =)
I know I’ve been absent for a while. Been working on stuff. Also, stuff happened. The kind of stuff that happens and you look back on it and say… yeah. So. That happened. That’s happening. It’s actually come to this.
I missed reading everyone’s blogs and definitely hope to catch up a little and get back into blogging myself (though not as frequently. Maybe once a week?)
Meanwhile here is a picture of Storm. Still improving my art skills but I’m loads better than I used to be!
See you all ’round!
“Mommy has a new boyfriend.”
Six year old Erica was eating a cheese and pickle sandwich on the school playground. Her little blond playmate, Sam, sat swinging her thin legs back and forward. “Is he nice?”
“He bought me candy,” Erica replied through a mouthful of bread. “But he smells weird. And he’s started growing plants in the backyard.”
Sam giggled. “What’s his name?”
“John Carr… Carreras.” She stumbled over the pronunciation. “Mommy told me not to tell anyone but it doesn’t matter ‘cuz we’re friends, right?”
Erica was startled awake the next morning to the sound of shouting and the front door being bashed down. Sam’s father was a policeman.
The moon was distorted into cubist patterns through the bathroom window glass. It was dark outside – well, as dark as it could get in this part of the city. The best dark the sky could seem to achieve was a deep sapphire blue. Sapphire was the birthstone of the month Kesi was born in. She always remembered.
Kesi curled her toes around the corner of the bench. She was sitting on the white sink, just next to the basin. There was a drain ring around the plug hole. She didn’t have the light on, but the drain ring was still quite visible.
There was banging and shouting. It advanced around the house, beginning in the hallway and ending in the kitchen near her with a large crash and a scream.
She held her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut and humming to block out the sounds. When she opened them again there was only silence.
Kesi waited. Shifted. Unfolded her long legs and jumped to the floor. Cautiously slid the lock back and tiptoed out.
Mother was asleep on the couch, still in her dressing gown, the broom leaning against the wall along with a pan full of green glass.
The kitchen was swept and neat, everything in order excepting the flower vase which was missing from the counter.
She peered from the window down at the driveway. Mother’s white sedan was there and her father’s car was gone, as was he.