PapagajHogyan lehet elmagyarázni egy rózsaszín papagájt annak, aki sosem látott még olyat?Papagaj14 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Először is tudnunk kell, hogy a papagáj kétségtelen, csíp. Ha odatartod a kezed, hogy megtapintsd a formáját, a tollát, tolakodásnak veszi, és a papagájok nem kedvelik a tolakodókat. Ezek a furcsa, kérdőhangsúlyos hangok tőle erednek, a papagáj elfogadta a jelenléted, de azért figyelmeztet, hogy a tolakodást nem kedveli. Kicsi feje van, akkora, mint egy kétfontos érme, érdekes, érmák között az a legnagyobb, de papagájfejméretben nem számít nagynak. A szeme még kisebb. A múltkor szétesett a borsörlő, és szétgurultak a borsszemek, na pont akkora a papagáj szeme. Ha egészen lassan közelí
The MarketEach morning the vendors arrive before dawn. As they set up their kiosks they hear the songbirds rub the sleep out of their eyes and start to sing groggily. As the sun rises over the horizon of the tiny African village, the pinks and purples that stain the sky lightly kiss the pyramids of fruits set up on squalid cardboard boxes. Mothers in long dresses and wrapped heads fill hand-woven wicker baskets with red peppers and green chiles, damp with morning dew. The forenoon fog, not yet burned away by the sleepy sun, twists and furls over saccharine apples and astringent grapefruits. As customers first arrive, those vendors unprepared engage in a furious boondoggle; some sew small swatches of perfunctory fabric together, or hastily place bruised fruits under tables, to make their products appear more lucrative.The Market3 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Umbrellas striped with vivacious colors are set up, one by one, to shade the delicate products being sold. Behind the men and women that run the market, entire walls of jars, baske
MomentsMoments10 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This
Reliving a memory is like capturing a moment in time, over and over again.
It's like painting a canvas without referring to a physical source for inspiration, but rather utilizing a mismatched chain of events strewn together in your mind in a way that appeals to your favorite memories.
A family BBQ, a group of your best friends gathering for a celebration, or the feeling you felt when you leaned in for your first kiss.
Moments in time that you want to relive again, but never turn out the same way they did in that very moment. And therefore, the best you can do is mentally construct the scene to be as perfect as the moment in question.
Drinking beers with your best friends while discussing your futures; you make a promise under the moonlit starry summer sky that no matter where you go, your friendship will always remain intact.
As you pass on to another memory, you watch as several of your close relatives; uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents, gather around and re-tell their own unique
Mont Blanc ReflectionMount Blanc Shelley’s idealism regarding “Power” and Intellect (Imagination)Mont Blanc Reflection8 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Natural imagery is utilized in the poem as a metaphor for thoughts and the human mind. Shelley’s “Mont Blanc” begins by entailing a general statement of human thoughts. Universal truths occur throughout the mind without end. These “secret springs,” or universal truths, are the sources of human thoughts (Shelley 4). The imagery of water creates a notion that the human mind is ever thinking. Shelley emphasizes the continual flow of thought through the image of a waterfall: “In the wild woods, among the mountains lone/ where waterfalls around it leaps forever/ where woods and winds contend and a cast river/ over its rocks ceaselessly burst and raves” (8-11). The “wild woods” are the first iconic representations of the human mind that Shelley presents—within the human mind, thoughts react like a waterfall which “around it leaps for
Why I Love my Ancestral ActivistsWhen I was typing this out, I was reminded of my ancestral activists who gave me the rights to type this out. They reminded of one thing.Why I Love my Ancestral Activists25 minutes ago in Short Stories More Like This
They reminded me of the activism that got me my rights and how today's activism is lacking the proper way.
Being against the majority is not going to help you or the people you fight for.
Denying that hatred against those who have not harmed you is bad.
Playing victim does not benefit anyone.
Trivializing what the group stands for is never okay.
Believing anyone deserves suffering makes you just as bad as your oppressors.
Our ancestors fought for out rights to better ourselves. Not to play victim because it's easy to do so. Our ancestors knew three things when it came to activism.
They were not going to be well liked. That was their cross to bear and they knew it. But, do you think they played victim? No, they got up when they got knocked down and kept fighting. They wanted to fight so that they would have a fut
Disabled BirdTo be able to fly depends on the feathers that form the bird wings. The build is as light and streamlined as possible to reduce the friction and make the build of the wings not too heavy. It is perfectly matched to what the bird can handle. If the same goes for humans that their ability to live life normally like a bird is common with flying. That most likely I am a bird that had a strange distortion in his wings. I had heavy wings that I could move. Other birds that could fly laughed at my disability to fly through the sky. I despised those birds. My raven eyes never stopped looking at the clear blue sky. My wings never stopped adjusting to my weaknesses. They were only heavy, because I noticed that the aerodynamic state of my wings was better than the rest of the birds. I trained years to find my way to the sky. Some birds did even mention quitting it. That I could better survive on the ground. Any bird knows that the rate of survival if you are not able to fly is drastically decreasDisabled Bird15 hours ago in Short Stories More Like This