#shopcenter

[healthsweatin]

Dzień dobry kochani ❤️ Dziś kawka ☕ ze Starbucks dla energii bo zapowiada się długi dzień 💪🏻 Będzie ciężko, ale po to Bóg stworzył kobiety, prawda? Haha Miłego dzionka życzę moi mili 😍😍 Good morning dears ❤️ Coffee today ☕ from Starbucks for energy because it's going to be a long day 💪🏻 It's going to be hard, but that's why God created women, right? haha I wish you a nice day my dears 😍😍 #coffee #coffeetime #coffeelover #morningcoffee #morning #starbucks #starbuckscoffee #coffeeshop #drink #café #cafe #shoppingcenter #shopcenter #workhard #work #delocious #keepgoing #love #health #healthylifestyle #foodblogger #foodies #foodpic #foodstagram #instagram #instadaily (at Starbucks) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqXdeHXIcKk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[folombas]

Bangkok, Thailand. Shopping in the big shopping center "Big C Supercenter" on the evening of January 7, 2019 on the eve of departure back home to Moscow. #bangkok #thailand #shopping #shopcenter #store #consumer #buyer #walk #asia #selfie #mirror #photo Бангкок, Таиланд. Шопинг в большом торговом центре "Big C Supercenter" вечером 7 января 2019 года накануне вылета обратно домой в Москву. #бангкок #таиланд #шопинг #торговыйцентр #магазин #потребитель #покупатель #прогулка #азия #селфи #зеркало #фото https://www.instagram.com/p/Bxw2RxXBKuT/?igshid=13qqnr0i5zmrh

[jansibik]

Nový Smíchov. #shopcenter #novysmichov #shopcenter #mall #christmas #winter #praha #prag #prague #sibik #shop #shopping (v místě Obchodní centrum Nový Smíchov) https://www.instagram.com/p/BsfUmSPlwc-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1lpkkbje1nfaj

[albumosobisty]

[nicky-spell-mash]

Двигающиеся шарики^^в европейском #Москва #тц #Moscow #shopcenter #모스크바 (at ТРЦ "Европейский")

[fabianoardito]

"Shopcents". #shopping #ferrovelho #deposito #sucata #junkyard #scrapyard #rsa_presciousjunk #tralha #tranqueira (em Americana, Sao Paulo) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0nu6j6DOE9/?igshid=1cgmir224xjab

[the-littlest-ala-mhigan]

Two Sons

Eight days had passed. Hawthorne had not yet seen Gelva leave the house. He hadn't seen her run the forge, or step outside, or rise from the shopcenter chair. He hadn’t seen Gelva cry.

He hadn’t seen any of it, but the floor still mapped beneath them lain with new, muddy footsteps that hadn’t been there the last time he'd mopped it. The forge still breathed behind them, hot and filled with firestone and coal and belching out every so often with gasps of heat. Her boots still caked with dirt, her hands still caked with soot and heat stains, and her husband’s spear sat new and repaired behind them, shining.

And Hawthorne knew his sister.

"Gelva," he said.

He sat across from her now at the little table that hallowed out the room. What light that remained in her forge burned low and the shadows wrapped thick to cover her face, washing over her shoulders like a clingy and hungered shawl. Her hands were folded over one another atop the table and she bent her head to keep a watch on her own thumbs as they smoothed over healing knuckles.

She wouldn't look at him.

"Gelva," he stressed, and the child in his arms stirred. -- Abeodan, she'd named him. Abeodan Hawthorne. Abeodan Hawthorne Silverbrand.

The tribute to his own name, Hawthorne assumed, would probably mean more right now if his sister would actually answer him, even with a tone or some hiss of dismissal. He readjusted the child - six, now - and leaned further in towards the table.

"It's been eight days, Gelva." He said, speaking gently as he had the patience for. "Your children need you. These children, the ones you have here. The breathing ones. This one.” He paused, swallowed, “Gelva, Rhula's--"

"Don't say it."

Well, there was an answer.

"Gelva."

"She may have gotten away."

"Gelva." He stressed again.

"Hawthorne, she may have found the Resistance." Gelva snapped back. Her tone was as even as a washboard, cool and brittle like a piercing of slate. There was no shaking undertone, no wavering to her words that would give her away. But she swallowed and shrunk in the shadows more when she paused and those everbold shoulders fell just a fraction under their veil of dark, "She--"

"You saw your husband's corpse, Gelva.” Hawthorne interrupted. “You saw all the corpses. There was no surviving that night. Not for--"

"Shut up!" The slam of her hands rang into the room on a bell toll. Her voice carried, catching on every edge of metal that lined the weaponry storefront. Her palms buried deep enough in the table's edge to leave welts against the corner and her nails dug slots into the wood. "Shut up! You didn’t find her! Nobody found her! You found Wulfric! And I--"

"Your sons!" He roared back. Just as loud, just as diligent. Abeodan shifted in his arms again and if he had anything to thank the Garleans for, it would be teaching children to sleep through gunfire. "Your two sons. You have two of them, Gelva. Two children. This one right here! And Thorben?"

"They like you, Hawthorne." Her voice did fall from its stern pedestal of authority, then broke down to a gentle ease, exhausted. "They both like you. Just watch them. A few more days. Just watch them until I'm back again."

"Two sons," he said again. "Two living sons."

"Hawthorne." She swallowed, and he caught the wobble of her arms in the second before she sat back down. "Hawthorne. You know Ruly. Remember, Remember when she game home caked in Garlean blood? Twelve years old and covered in blood. God, Wulfric screamed. Tell me the Resistance wouldn't love to take her in, Hawthorne, tell me."

"That isn't what I'm telling you, Gelva."

"Well I'm not listening to what you're telling me."

A silence fell between them like a curtain. Thick and heavy and bulleted. Somewhere outside, gunfire screamed. Abeodan moved again.

"Gelva--"

She was already standing, already tying her hair back up into her clip and crossing the room to shove her feet into her boots again, throw on her coat, pick up Wulfric's spear.

"I'll be back," she said. "Watch them. Thorben will be good. Abeodan will sleep. Put him back in his room when he wakes up. I'll be back."

"Gelva!"

But he said no more. He watched his sister, back straight, chin high, step out the door. He had to look down as she crossed the threshold. He had to look down. Words cluttered in his mouth, but in the instant they felt more like vomit. In the end, he spent more time choking than figuring out anything he could possibly say to her, his hand over his mouth as the door swung closed.

Gelva hadn't been there when he'd found Rhula closed up in the arms of her father's body. She was still on the way when he'd pried Rhula from the wreckage and held the tiny form. She got there too late to see anything.

Gelva wasn't there when he buried her, and she wasn't there any more when he damned himself, clinging to her youngest son, unable to watch his sister step over the threshold grave of her daughter's corpse.

[eventcarr-blog]

Hmm what do you think? #mini #bmw #ride #shopcenter #garage #night #party

[sabkuchmilega]

#shopcenter #lumbini #rupandehi #buddhahouse #nepal #incrediblenepal (en Lumbini, Nepal)