Blue Hour
"bowie," he insisted. "mr. tremaine was my father, bless him." he extended an arm behind him to place a water bottle on the sleek desk. i meekly reached for it after waiting for bowie to give me a slight nod.
Ward 7B
Once, i had picked up an album that i had been told was by david bowie. i listened to the cd for a while, and then fell asleep.
Public Enemies: Meet the Characters
1902 pistol, bounty $7,500) caleb elliot 'cut throat' (human, male, driver of the getaway car, age 19, hair: light brown, eyes: green, height 5 ft 9 inches, weight 180 pounds, weapons: winchester 1907- .351 winchester, .38 super m1911a1 machine pistol, bowie
The Apocalypse.
I urged him to run with me but he unsheathed a large bowie knife.
Red, White, and Blue Prologue and Chapter 1
With the other, he unsheathed the bowie knife from his boot and severed the goon's jugular.
Gutpunch 8 The fall and rise of Raeder Non-Applicable and the critters of Brin
Outlaw Planet A wolf yelled out from the back alleys. The town of Brin, although relatively small, had quickly increased its populace due to a boom in trade and the town itself made for an excellent middle stop for passing merchants from the East to...
Blood, Sweat, and Diesel: Chapter 8
Did he want dad's bowie knife back? well if he did, i'd throw it in a river sooner than see him get it. my father's bowie knife is my pride and joy. its blade is 10 inches long, enough to run a 'yote clean through, not that i've tried it.
Blood, Sweat, and Diesel: Chapter 1
I handed my bowie knife to kent. "if i get blown up, send this to my brother." i told him, solemnly. a wolf jogged up from the road, and handed me a spool of wire connected to a detonator, which was firmly stuck into a block of c4.
Seeonee 2 - Chapter 10
Without my bowie knife or machete, i had nothing to defend myself with. mowgli had taken my advice and was gone. that thought comforted me, because he now had a good chance to see his family again. i lay in wait for the end. nothing.
Time Beats. Hearts tick. - medium poem
This was written after i listened to underground by david bowie during my senior year of high school. it was published by poetic power, a contest for students k-12, in 2015. this is my 3rd and final poem published by them. written by me, fane star.
Red Moon: Chapter 8
\*click\* it was one of the worst sounds he had ever heard and so he threw the gun at the wolf, knowing that it would do nothing and pulled out his last line of defense, a bowie knife.
Alphys Höek
"uh...since they photoshopped your face onto david bowie, i suppose?" alphys laughed nervously, scratching her head in confusion. "uh-huh." mettaton snickered, handing alphys a pen. "huh? w-what do you want me to do with this?!"