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Pixel art: A cute little blue penguin with a shiny golden crown.

Bogus people not welcome.
Welcome, people Smiling emoji with hearts floating around it.

-=_ That's my fav marvel. Goodamn monomyth for the classical antagonist.

-=_ Spell check? More like smell check, dude...

*=- real

-=_ Btw. What are you gonna make first in your new oven? Also did you deep-clean it?

/-/ I get that—Infinity War really nails that classical antagonist arc with Thanos (?). He’s not just a villain for the sake of it; he’s got a clear motive, twisted as it is, and you understand where he’s coming from. I actually hoped that they would let the consequences remain in the movies following :- (

/-/ I have cleaned it, yes :- ) There is a lasagna inside right now- you can see the aluminum foil in the picture. It is going to be lit ❤️‍🔥

/-/ Waking up
Stretching arms wide
Sitting on the edge of the bed, blinking at the morning light.

Standing up
Feet cold against the wooden floor
Walking down the hallway, slow and steady, like a march to nowhere.

Turning a corner
The smell of wet grass hanging in the air
Sees a garden of ivy, climbing the old stone walls.

Opening the door
The soft creak of hinges, as if they hadn’t moved in years
Eyes scanning the empty kitchen.

Where coffee?
Closes the cupboard with a snap.

Heading to the back porch
Hearing distant birds, sharp against the silence.

Opening another door
A glimpse of sunlight slipping through cracked shutters
No sign of anyone.

No boots by the door?
Closing it gently, letting the air settle back to stillness.

Walking away
Steps echoing, fading into the long shadows of morning.

No garlic sticks :awman:

On the church plackard it reads: “Sorry, our fridge broke down and we couldn’t keep the dough fresh. We’re making a fresh batch but it’ll be a while.”

We see this,
the faded letters almost blending into the worn wood of the board.
We stop, hands in pockets, frowning at the note’s gravity.

We observe it,
the weight of disappointment hanging in the air like stale bread.
A gust of wind rattles the nearby trees, mocking our craving.

We sleep on it,
the night drags on, thoughts of garlic sticks swirling in dreams
like the sweet aroma of herbs escaping from an oven.

But when dawn breaks,
there is no hope—
the clock ticking too loudly, echoing the emptiness.

It has been too long—
the promise of dough fading into the past.

there are no garlic sticks -

Only echoes of what could have been,
like crumbs scattered on the floor of a forgotten diner.

*=- What a shame.

-=_ 10/10 poetry. Made me feel the sing-song of birds and the emptiness of closed-down-for-the-day restaurants

=¨* This restaurant is si damn empty... What am I gonna do with all this garlic ??? Fight vampires?

-__ Shove em up my ass

*=- bitch we closed!!!!!!!!
we got condemned cause we couldn't keep the roaches out

=¨* Oh, that explains the Xenomorph looking monster under the sink... I thought a customer forgot their pet alien.
We could convert the restaurant to a pet shop for feeder roaches... ?

*=- maybe
do they like garlic?

=¨* Not sure but it's a good anti vampire and antibacterial agent... ?
I'm sure we can feed the feeder olive and bread so no problem

*=- True we have functionally infinite of that after management opened that portal to hell