Seven Deadly Sins: Envy

    Hello, people. Today is the sixth day of the Seven Deadly Sins blog challenge, and I want to give much praise to Antimony at Thoughts, Musings, and Broken Promises. You should seriously go check out her stuff because, well, it rocks my socks off. And that means it's good. (I feel the need to translate some of this street slang) Leave comments if you feel like it! Your thoughts mean much to me! Thanks! Gracias! Danke schön!

    Envy (I know I don't normally title them but this time I'm going to!)

    It's dark. My mind is useless and slow. I don't know how long it's been since I was taken away from my family and locked up in here. I don't remember the last time I saw the sun, when I could stand up straight, when I didn't have a beard that brushed the dust off my toes.

I hear the heavy door swing open. The dim light blinds me. They grab him, my cellmate. He was the last one, 'sides me. He's getting the death penalty. Why couldn't they have taken me? I don't care anymore that I didn't commit the crime I was accused of. I just want to die. Anything to be out of this God-forsaken hole.

Seven Deadly Sins: Pride

This is the third in the series of the Seven Deadly Sins blog challenge that I'll be doing, and I want to give a huge "Thank you!" to Lady Antimony over at Thoughts, Musings, and Broken Promises here on Blogger for hosting this wonderful event. You should totally check out her page, and all her awesome works! Her poetry is absolutely delightful.

    I gaze intently at his still and quiet beauty; his pencil-thin brow, his crimson lips filled with passion, his eyes as mysterious as the afterlife, his jaw immaculate and strong... He is the portrait of perfection in every aspect. No, he doesn't have burns on his face, blisters that ooze ceaselessly if touched improperly. No, he doesn't have hands as rough as sandstone, nor a conscience burdened with the shattered bones and screams of his foes. But he also doesn't have the Medal of Honor or a medal for bravery, either. I steal one last glance from the painting, then smirk and turn to push my wheelchair out the door of the art museum.

(100 words)