conus: keyinfinite arguments filled with incoherent words & unresolved issues. 'it's better this way' you say, the simple yet afflictive phrase causes me to drown in the sorrows of my broken <& bitter> heart. realizing your love will never return to me as i watch her pale plump fingers softly run through your carnelian hair <from a far>; intense envy rushes over me like the hemimorphite wind waves colliding into the jagged stibnite rocks of a black sand beach. i can't help but feel only contempt for you, quietly wishing for a quick expiry to your 'ethereal' relationship with her. i've never wanted anyone to hurt as much as i do, which leads me to believe that i still love you.conus: key2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Softly Stinging ThornsThe Softly Stinging Thorns.The Softly Stinging Thorns2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
An Analogy on humankind, by Apple
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Some would say that to be human, one would need to look human and act human. I’ve heard this from books, movies and even documentaries. But, I’ve come to wonder why any human would say this. I’ve recorded my experiences with my creators for further interpretation. This is my findings on the subject through my experiences with humankind.
Let me start with some background information.
I am named Apple. I am fifteen years old, and female in gender. Let me start this off with one simple enlightening fact. I am not a regular human. Most would say that I am not even a human at all. I do not look like a human, nor do I want to look like a human. Daddy says I shouldn’t. I follow his advice. He said that it’s better that I be unique.
Anyway, I am a Rapidly Evolving Organism (REO for short). This means my
Dog Days I love my master so much, and things were always beautiful back in the days when I was younger and it was only the two of us. He used to give all of his attention to me and actually wanted to be close to me. We used to go on walks every day and, at night, we would snuggle into the warm bed and go to sleep together. He used to love it when I greeted him, as he walked through the door, often joining in with his own loud enthusiasm as a greeting back to me. He never seemed to forget to feed me and often shared some of what he was eating with me, knowing how much I loved human food over my own bland and very dry pellet food. What I loved most was our relaxation times when we would curl up on the couch and watch television, as he would rub my belly and scratch all of the itchy spots which I could never reach with my foot. Those were the times when I thought he loved me as much as I loved him. Oh, how I miss those days and wish they could have lasted; I wish that everything had nDog Days1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
The FayOnce upon a time, there was a beautiful fairie. She had wings of silver and gold, and could fly faster than a hummingbird, more gracefully than a hawk, and higher than an eagle. She was funny, remarkably intelligent, and amiable. All of the other fairies would have loved her, had it not been for one incredibly obvious deformity: the fairie had no legs.The Fay2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
And so, the other fairies did one of three things. Most of them mocked her, or even went out of their way to make her life miserable by hiding the crutches the fairie had fashioned for herself out of Birch twigs, so that she had to fly for hours straight as she searched desperately for the supports. Other fairies pretended to be her ally, only to turn around and join the fairies previously mentioned in tormenting her. The last group of fairies ignored the beautiful fairie's struggles, or made ignorant comments as to how she should deal with her impairment. "Have you tried drinking nectar twice daily?" "How about applying snail slime once
HERE COMES GRACIE!Gracie McKeane was floating in deep black. She was sinking, but strangely enough, she was not afraid. „Mum´s calling“ she thought. „She finished cooking dinner. I have to get downstairs.“HERE COMES GRACIE!12 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
But she didn´t move an inch. „Mum´s calling“ she thought. „But I can´t go down just yet. I have to stay here just for a bit longer.“
Opening her mouth and breathing out the breath she wasn´t even aware of holding, she watched as the bubbles floated up above her head. She reached out her hand to grab one of those silvery stars, she emptied her lungs further and further, until she felt as though not a single bit of air was left in her.
And suddenly, her halfways closed eyes shot wide open. With her arms, she reached out, trying to find something, anything she could hold on to. Her legs kicked around, unable to find something to stand on. She tried to breath. She had to breath, but everywhere was water! As it began filling her lungs
the fall of Mr. LeafSitting one dreary late afternoon, the only companion of an isolated park bench, I quietly sat captivated by the vignette of a lone falling leaf.the fall of Mr. Leaf2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Delicately swirling as it danced toward reunion with the earth from which it came; I was struck by the absolute simplicity of the act. “We are much alike you and I, my dear Mr. Leaf,” I found myself addressing this profound new friend as he fell. “Born to unfold, the season of birth, our glorious bloom; followed closely by a bold and vibrant season of youth; once mature, strong and secure, a season of labor to weather the storms; transitioning into the sunset season of age and wither, in preparation ultimately of letting go in faithful completion of our solitary journey.”
Other than my voice, there was no reply as the precious leaf gently settled at my feet. I reverently gathered the corpse, folding his remains into the pages of my mind, while closing the forgotten book that only mere moments before had commanded my ra
Sinestro¿Quién es Estro? Es la personificación del desastre en MagiCWSinestro3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
¿Cuáles su propósito? Crear problemas en todo el mundo
¿Por qué lo hace? Es parte del equilibrio ahí
Efectivamente, por más irreal, extraño o hasta ilógico que parezca el papel de Estro, o Sinestro en MagiCW es crear un declive cada indeterminado tiempo... para mantener un equilibrio del bien y el mal en MagiCw.
¿Por qué? Simple, MagiCW es una dimensión sin muchas guerras o conflictos entre criaturas, sólo pequeños conflictos que desaparecen en menos de lo que empiezan. Es un mundo pacífico. Hasta que él aparece.
No se puede vivir en desequilibrio, tanto del bien como del mal. Sin mal no hay quienes quieran hacer el bien, y sin bien se puede llegar a lo monótono. Es ahí la extraña misión de este ser.
¿Entonces él es bueno? No, no lo es para los habitantes de MagiCW, no de forma directa. Su
BicycleShe told him that she needed him like a fish needed a bicycle and arrogantly walked away.Bicycle1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
What she didn’t mention was that particular fish she meant had a bicycle fetish and it kept dreaming about bicycles every night tossing and turning and waking up all sweaty and even at daytime it was everything the fish could think about, cause it yearned for the certain bicycle with all its might. The fish was obsessed and forever hooked on the bicycle for the fish knew it would love nothing more.
But she was too proud to elaborate about that specific fish so he never truly understood and she never got her bicycle.
The Dawning- A Short Story ((This is my intellectual property. Copyright 2015. ))The Dawning- A Short Story1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Dawn is finally breaking, come to slay the night. I watched as the sun broke free from the restraints set upon it at night. Breaking away from the horizon it rose into the sky. Higher, higher, as if it would never stop. The clouds raced each other across the great blue racetrack that was the sky. They gaily frolic, playing with the sun. They were free. They were forever free. They could never be chained. Never. But I am not a cloud. I am human. That means I can fear. I do Fear. They have made me live in fear.
They. Them. All of them. All of they.
No matter how many times I re-arranged the words in my head they melted together to make a face.
UntitledThe sun slowly sank into the distant hills. The orange rays tickled the window of the small room, exposing a large pure white bed. The bare walls were utilitarian in design. Wooden beams in the ceiling supported a sturdy roof and plaster walls kept the elements at bay. The eagerness of the of the middle aged man at the base of the bed was unmistakable. He almost salivated at the events he surely knew would take place. Before him, locks of golden yellow glistened in the sun. On the other side of the bed, quivering in the sunlight, eager for touch, lay an almost perfect mirror of the golden locks, though this time a fiery red.Untitled2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
He gently caressed the fiery red form as the last vestiges of light vanished into the distance. Each stroke of his and built more anticipation as his eagerness was met with a cooing sound. The cooing was replaced by a purring as he plunged deep into the red form. Grunting with excitement he began to work feverishly until he could fe
RUMINATION #15, FOR THE ANCHOVY (PREVIEW #3)As the Applesauce creature supported him flashes of light circulated, giving Rex the impression that he was lying on the floor of aRUMINATION #15, FOR THE ANCHOVY (PREVIEW #3)3 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
disco. Bob stood on the lower steps, “You got to get out of its way!” signaling the others. It didn’t matter for what reason, the words
compelled the dog to act. He leaned his back on the courageous fuzz ball, and supported himself enough to swing on his toes and fall
forward. Snig-the Emissary was carving off both the arms of a Phibian shock trooper and reducing the appendages to pulpy shredded
bone brittle. The rapier drill burrowed through the protective armor and again through the two others behind the frog. From the right, a
unidentified silver object dashed into the field of battle. Rex received the wayward representative in his open arms. A tightly knit
squadron of Phibs charged up the center, and was removed. Over the sounds of murder and mayhem a voice unlike the Narrators said,
“Sorry kid, those are the breaks!” The
Zen punishment'What's that? You stopped paying attention to what you were doing as you were doing it? You let your mind go on automatic? Tssk Tssk! That will be 2 hours, my dear student, 2 hours' worth of meditation - a punishment sitting, oh yes!'Zen punishment1 hour ago in Short Stories More Like This
'Yes, master,' groans the student.
'Well, how did it go this week?'
'Umm, master, it happened again. I don't know, I just tuned out; my mind was on automatic pilot...again!'
‘Hmm. very well, that’ll be 2 days of sitting meditation, after everyone finishes normal sitting, you’ll be staying in the hall even longer; understood?’
‘Yes, master,’ groans the student.
‘And if I hear a groan again, my boy, it’s the stick!’
(Ulp) ‘Yes, master!’
The week passes.
‘Sorry, master; it happened again. I – .’
Weeks pass by.
‘You look very alert, student; I am pleased!’
‘Yes, master, all the m
Whisp of the pastI ast in the dark,cold room,the loud,harmonios and misterious tunes of the organ makes the air vibrate with music as i sat playing thinking at the past and how many things changed over the ages.I feel like yesterday the gentlemens with theyr ladyes where walking on stone roads,carriages with horses on the roads,busy people at the windows dusting theyr rugs and putting clothe sto dry.Or how street venders where trying to atract buyesrs to theyr little shops,inns full of travelers and sailors telling theyr adventures be a lie or not,the great booze and rum in the old over used mugs and the smell of the old wood,mold,ciggar snad a little of the free,wild sea.Good times.Soon stronger ships of the navy appeared,the age of pirates ending,putting some of us to our eternal sleep.Or so they thaught.I watched how the world evolved and elarned,soon the beautiful,gracious wooden ships where rep[laced by the heavy,hunky metal ones.MAy they be spacious inside and even powerful they are a tumorWhisp of the past9 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Before I Begin 1 Before I begin, there is a simple warning I must extend to you: set aside the truths you have come to think are inevitable. Cast away the idea that death is the end of life, that we may not tread into that forbidden place and that it may not reach us from so far away. These predispositions will not help you here.Before I Begin 12 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In your hands is a collection of tales each one written in the essence of the beholder. Each illuminating the fears we as humans must carry with is. Each exposing the flaws we share as a people, as a race, as a creation.
We begin in China. Nestled just beyond Sichuan, a tiny village called Danshan holds our first tale.
Vital Change - Ch.2 - PurpleVital Change - Ch.2 : PurpleVital Change - Ch.2 - Purple2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Some people were lucky in life, some weren’t, some had incredible talents, some didn’t really have, or if they had, they couldn’t spread it. In the new world, everyone had right to make a show off of their talents, but not everyone had the most precious gift: knowledge. Being smart never was easy, but it has many benefits and guarantees many advantages in life.
He was a genius. Being a genius is not easy, since you barely can socialize, because you see less people are in your level, and it’s hard to talk. Being a sassy genius is not equal being a nerd. Laic people won’t understand the difference between the words. He was happy yet not. He was ok being a genius, having so many possibilities, as organizing his own life on a high level, also being on university. The only part of the whole thing to socialize, having as many friends as he wanted.
Dan was sitting on a bench, on the yard, re
New York in the RainWhen it rains, everything goes watercolor in this world of asphalt and concrete. When there's water in the sky, you can see this city's dreams written with paintbrushes.New York in the Rain2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
People come here to fade away or to be found; they come here for nightmares or for fairytales. I can see it in their eyes that are hiding under red umbrellas, and I hear it in the pitter-patter of their shoes as they skip across puddles. (Those stagnant ponds might be dotted with rubbish, but they're fragments of the landscape I've come to embrace.) I even notice it as they rush away into each other, to Someplace and Someone I'll never know about.
I see peoples' cappuccinos, mocha lattes and black coffees steam in the cool air, and then the vapors disappear into the brick and stone. But for a moment, they danced with cigarette smoke and made masterpieces in the mist. I just cannot keep from smiling.
I like to walk around until the lights blink on in all the buildings, making the facades glisten through raindrops. That'
Bad Day-I had a bad day todayBad Day16 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To be honest, my memories of today are both clear and hazy at the same time. I can remember all the lonely moments and the sad moments with painful clarity, and yet they seem like a messy blur of negative emotions.
"I want to kill myself." I thought.
It's been exactly 61 hours since I last thought that.
I feel tired all the time. Nothing gets into my head, and I can't concentrate.
When I came home, I picked up some sheets of paper and began writing my farewell notes to all the people that ever mattered to me. I even made a list and double-checked the names to make sure I hadn't left anyone out.
I started to write the notes. "I'm sorry I was so useless" was a recurring sentence.
But the thing was,
the more I wrote, the more I started to think about all the things I'd be missing.
I'd never get to talk to my friends again.
I'd never get to throw cushions at my dad for his horrible jokes again. No one's going to laugh with my Mom over her weird cooking anymore.
serpulidae: feathersattentively listening to the graceful humming of your raspy voice, while you enchant me with magnificent veszelyite eyes that mirror the abyssopelagic depths of the ocean. i continue to stroke your fluorrichterite hair with the texture of a soft pelage <from an ursus thibetanus>, as you carefully look through the eccentric diane arbus portraits as if they were photographs from a family collection. your kutnohorite fingertips circle around the whitework embroidery of your vintage cryolite nightgown. 'i'm lonely' you sweetly whisper, 'me too' i say/think as i secretly reply in my mind. wondering if it's possible for two people in the same room to be 'lonely'.serpulidae: feathers19 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This