You Were My SunshineThere, in a too clean room and in a too white bed, lied a young girl. She had very pretty brown hair and very tired brown eyes that she tried to keep open despite everything. In one hand in was a much smaller hand, in the other hand was a piece of folded paper.You Were My Sunshine3 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Gasping, she tightened her hand, not for a second loosening her grip on the slim fingers in her palm. Sliding her right hand to her left, the young girl deposited the yellowing page in, letting the second hand clench around it. Exchanging the paper from the first hand to the second, the owner of the hand- the young girl's friend- unfolded it gently. Written on the faded slip was a collection of words:
"Hello, my darling, my sweet.
May I please twist you a tale?
Do not worry, it shall be neat;
I can promise you that, at least.
Before I get started,
Let me ask you one thing.
Oh, my darling, my dear, my sweet;
Have you seen the invisible rain?
I know you have painted with
The colors of the wind.
That you have weaved your quilts
Shrunken at a gymYou got shrunk at a women's/ men's gym what we'll u doShrunken at a gym3 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Anything can happen 18+ is allowed if wanted
There was a garden.When I was young, I knew that there was an unkindness in this world. There are men who will stand and shout pleasant ideologies. There are women who will lie through the skin of their teeth to save monsters. I learned by trial, and it was taught. All kings tend to be the worst of men. And we judged the witches wrong.There was a garden.1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I was told of a garden, and that it was the start of things. They spoke of a tree, and the serpent here be.
When I grew up, I learned by error. They taught that lying was wrong, and
Who am I to coax the snake from the tree?
I must be careful, they said. There are people painted in greed. Whatever I could give would never be enough. You can't satisfy the boogeyman after all.
A elder handed me my escape, and since I've struggled to be free.
They tried to gown me in their tales, tried to paint me into porcelain. Like a marionette with broken strings, they could try to move me.
No, they cautioned, don't reach so far. The stars will blow away like so much dust. Careful, be wary
An Urgent Need for Ruin: Chapter Four Monday was uneventful. I couldn't even relax outside for fear of having to face Stranger Danger tomorrow. Why in the world would he offer to take me to school? That was the question I tried to avoid answering all day. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know the inner working of his mind. I didn't want to know him. I wanted to move far away where his predator eyes couldn't track me. I wanted to sneak off to school for the rest of this year. I wanted to never go outside again.An Urgent Need for Ruin: Chapter Four3 hours ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It was inevitable, though. Whatever I figured, there was still no feasible way to avoid him completely. And Mom expected us to be friends. Again, I might add. Old friends or not, there was no way I was even attempting to communicate with him. Mom better be right about him never talking like me. He wasn't even getting a look from me.
Bear with me. You'll only have to endure a bit more of this. I had such a disgusting attitude back the
cambio en tus expectativasAdvertencia: Esto es ficción. Está inspirado en algo que escribió una mujer a quien desconozco totalmente. Es desde un punto de vista que puede estar de acuerdo, o no, respecto a un tema en particular.cambio en tus expectativas3 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Te he observado sin que se te des cuenta. No al extremo de un acosador, pero lo más correcto sería "como un científico observando a las hormigas". Ni idea del por qué me mandaron a hacerlo. Quería dejarlo porque me parecía aburrido. No importa. Seguiré...
Cuando cumpliste 16, buscaba al popular, al que tiene carro y que la pueda entender. Pero un chico con buen corazón no es lo suficiente para llamarle la atención. Tenía que ser un "bad boy" que actúe de forma amable o dulce contigo. Sí, Solo a ti. Pero estabas harta de cuando el novio es amable con otras chicas, o la idea sobre eso.
Cuando tenías 21, buscó a un hombre casi totalmente perfecto. Quería que sea de buena presencia, de cuerpo perfecto,
FallingThe journey begins whether you want to go or notFalling7 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Seat belts GPS and Google maps won’t help on this ride - destination unknown
Baggage included unless it’s your first trip
When you arrive the person you are falling for may be there to meet you
If not you are lucky if you land on your feet and walk away unscathed
Smoked"You need to stop smoking."Smoked10 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Something like that didn't come any time other than four-o-clock in the goddamm morning.
Telling him to stop smoking, that is.
And, well, the smoking, too.
Breathe in, breathe out.
"I can get you some help."
"I don't need any help. I'm helping myself. Smoking healed me."
The wind of the city blew right through him, taking the smog with it and leaving a sticky city residue clinging to their skin. One of these days it'd just take his sick little body with it, and the cigarette would still be squeezed between two nervous, paralyzed fingers when his body cracked on the sidewalk.
Breathe in. Relax. Hold it in until your lungs are burning.
"It's gonna kill you."
Thump. Breathe out.
"It's gonna kill you,"
"I can't die, it's okay."
His eyelids felt heavy. But at four-o-clock in the goddamn morning after a peculiar night of four-o-clock in the goddamn mornings, that was to be expected. His lungs hurt. His head hurt. God, it all hurt. The wind was stinging h
A Writer's InspirationAs the autumn breeze rolled through the quiet little village once again the world was preparing itself for the coming winter. Despite this, everyone was enjoying the last of fading waves of the rare warmth as life went on as it normally did.A Writer's Inspiration14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Atop of the hill, laying on the village outskirts, a young man found himself alone starring towards the distant horizon filled with the warm colors and the falling leaves seemingly longing for something which was out of his reach.
And as a writer this longing for things beyond reach had become his inspiration.
The hill he would sit upon was his castle from which he could objectively look down at the essences of life below.
Wasting away minutes of his existence just looking around from high up in the clouds, taking in the sights and losing himself in an endless sequence of thoughts.
Thoughts which welled up inside of him, strong enough to influence his emotions.
These emotions gave birth to various feeling most notably exposing the loneliness and sa
A Groteque EssayA Grotesque EssayA Groteque Essay1 day ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherwood Anderson wrote a book titled “Winesburg, Ohio”. This book was originally going to be called “The Book of The Grotesque” but an editor wanted a title change. Anderson wrote about the people of Winesburg who had become Grotesques. Grotesque means comically ugly or terribly disturbing. Each of the people had a short story in the book. One of the first stories is in fact titled “The Book of The Grotesque”. The tale is about an old writer with a white mustache. He had trouble getting into bed and wanted his bed to be on level with the high windows of his house so that when he awoke he saw the trees. The old writer called a carpenter to come fix the bed. When the carpenter arrived, they talked for a while about raising the bed, but eventually moved off the topic and into that of the war. The carpenter, who had once been a soldier, was led to the subject by the writer. The soldier said that he was once in an Andersonville prison a
Full CircleThe End. The two most powerful words in a writer's arsenal...Full Circle2 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
But what do they really mean?
It concludes things, it wraps them up, it sums up the entirety of your words. When it all comes tumbling down in a exuberant crescendo of tumultuous recompense...
But it also indicates when the story is over. When the expected actually happens, and things continue on in their natural order... Whatever that order may be is up to the reader. Left to dream, in a nexus, full of dying carbon stars...
That doesn't mean nothing ever happens after that point, it simply means there are no more interesting things to tell those who are viewing the unchained shaded events. Everything after that will be normal, and boring and expected and blah and perchance even blaze'. Business as usual. Nothing more and no less.
What can you do to spice it up? Nothing... Short of writing an entire sequel, that is.
Maybe it was time things came full circle.
And one more thing... I have found the