Interludes“What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skullsInterludes2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
and ate up their brains and imagination?”
— Allen Ginsberg, “Howl”
“What are you thinking about?”
We’ve been walking in silence for too long, and my dad has never been particularly fond of silence. I, on the other hand, have never been particularly fond of walking. It was his idea, though, and since he was the one who was forced to take the day off work to look after me, I felt obliged to comply.
“Nothing,” I reply.
That building, the one right there with the reflective windows like panes of architectural ocean, that building is the one spot to catch the sunrise every morning.
I don’t mean watching from the top of it, although I’m certain that from the office on the highest floor the view is magical. Some nights, I dream about climbing those stairs. I climb storey after storey, floor after floor, ducking through
The runnerWhy after everything that was happening did he keep going? Was it sheer bravery? Or was it the pure power of human will. No one knew and everyone was dumbfounded as the city crumbled around him, yet he kept running, he ran torwards the only thing he cared about.The runner2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
He hasn't been this determined ever. His jacket had deteriorated off of his body and his shoes did too. He ran torwards her, the only thing that kept his body intact. The people on the large truck held out there hands in a vain attempt at killing him to no avail, he kept running. His lungs burned, to the point of excruciating pain. His knees were abot to buckle, but his will was too strong, this mans bones were easy to break, and his flesh was easy to tear. But his soul was unbreakable, he didn't listen to his body's cries of pain, he didn't care of the cuts on his feet, he cared about getting to the crying face which was in front of him, she saw him and cried harder, he couldn't take it, he would die trying or get to her. It w
small speech.Everyone has something they wish to do. a goal to reach, a dream to make real, and yet there are those who question what they can do. When one doesn't know what to do, all that needs to be done is to look at those around you. Friends, family, Lover, and one will find what they have to do and make it possible. Nothing is out of reach. Many wall's will be placed but they can be pushed down to bring the path back into view. Always keep going. Follow your heart, your mind, your soul, your dreams. Even if they seem out of reach, just ask for boost from someone close and with that boost, you can reach for anything once again and make it happen. Go for it with all your might and make it......a Reality.small speech.2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Black Room The door creaks open. He pads on the soft carpet over to his foldout chair. The rusty metal squeaks as he plants himself. He begins to speak and tell a story. The people watch and listen well. He jumps up and he dances with the pretty girl in the purple dress.The Black Room2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
But the room is empty and he is the only one there.
He crumples in a heap on the floor and begins to sob. He screams out and makes choking noises. He is all alone again. There's no-one to hold him and tell him things are okay. To pick him up and wipe away the streams that now run down his angry face. He feels them watching, sitting, talking.
But the room is empty and he is the only one there.
Love is GreySpring, Year 760 of the New AgeLove is Grey2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Glenmore, near the Glenwood
Featuring Finabhair & Iandu
Finabhair stepped daintily down the hillside, sticking the to worn and used trails more so to ensure her footing. It was a rather steep grade, this particular hill, and she knew one step could cause her to topple down into the lush meadow below. A lot had changed since her childhood here. Even at the edge of the royal glades, things looked a less intense, less green, but more... natural, as well.
On her return journey she'd heard the gossip about the death of King Ragnar the Red, and of silly rumors that the Great Oak had fallen. She hadn't believed them until she stayed through the spring. What a time to come back, with a potential rebellion brewing!
Coming to a slightly less treacherous incline, she spotted the outline of another fawnling, as she had been these past few hours of travelling. She hadn
What does home mean?What does home mean?What does home mean?2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
During the first handful years in my life, I never bothered with questions like these. It wasn't long until I was forced to think about it though.
Having a father, who makes being thrown around in school like a garbage can, look like harmless child's play, does that to you.
I don't know about you.
But home always meant danger for me - that kind where you're afraid to die.
If I would have been asked to translate "home" into another language - or to find synonyms for it, I would have given you a list with a bunch of negative words.
I never liked school. My classmates never realized that their behavior branded my life. I doubt that they even think about it today. They gut outsiders like me, stuff the hole with everlasting agony and hatred just to devour you like a turkey at thanksgiving.
If I would have been allowed to pick my poison, I would have chosen that over my father any day.
He was the one who made me unable to sleep.
To sit like a watcht
The Farm“So what about the farm?”The Farm3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Blue slowly leaned back in his seat, going silent as if pondering his next set of words. “The farm? The farm was nothing of importance, I don’t see why you want to know about it.”
“Every little detail can help, Blue. Trust us on that.”
He sighed softly, looking down to the ground, only to look back up. “The farm was more of a distraction of my mind, and aid to studies, and just a break from reality. And I say it worked fairly well. The girl enjoyed it as well.”
“What caused you to make the farm?”
“Like I said, the first cause was a distraction. Restless nights, well.. Not restless. But troubled nights. Dreams set in a lost system. ...Or something like that. Here, to put it in the best way I can describe, my dreams were vivid and confusing to me, so when I woke up I was less in a less-than content moodset.”
“Uhuh.. And your studies?”
“This was a new world. A new powe
GoodnightЗаголовок: Солодких снівGoodnight2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Посеред ночі мене розбудив неймовірний шум. Гуркотіло так, наче світ роздирали навпіл. Я відкрив очі у темній, маленькій кімнатці.
She's Mine NowDoes that hurt your little, pretty heart Snowy?She's Mine Now2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mid Spring, 759 of the New Age
Glenmore, The Glenwood
Featuring Princess Glenda and Cinder
A light rain had passed over the glade, in which Princess Glenda’s wisteria stood, this morning, but with it gone there was every promise of a bright, cloudless day. Cinder had awoken earlier than usual, having the intent of impressing Glenda by doing her absolute best. It was not that she had not done that so far, no she did her very best every day, but she felt like trying to take it that step further today, as if it meant something. It had to just be the morning air that messed with her head, but she felt sure. Deep within her, she felt sure that today something remarkable would happen.
Before waking up the golden doe she had gone the way needed to find someone willing to help her this early in the morning. After a few years being a ho