Yours and MineWe never got those towels his and hers. Those matching pajamas. Our pillows didnt even match, which I know irked you. Sometimes I wonder if you woke up every morning and immediately felt cross because of my pillow, and yours. Yours and mine.
But if you did, you never showed it. You woke me with a kiss and a smile more radiant than the sunrise that we never saw, nestled deeply as we were in the jungle of apartment buildings. Perhaps, then, you were cross about many things. The way I never put away my shoes, so you always were tripping over them; the way I didnt replace the toilet paper when we ran out; the way I wouldnt write mustard on the grocery list when I used the last of it. If it bothered you, you never said it. I had my flaws, and you had yours. Yours and mine.
I suppose its best we didnt get those towels, those pajamas, matching pillows. Even now little things remind me of you, things that didnt used to have any
Your MoveAll Im saying, she frowned, uncrossing and recrossing her legs under the table, is that he shouldve been a man about it. I dont see why he couldnt say it to my face. You just dont do that sort of thing over the phone. Not after eight months! Rook to C8.Your Move6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He nodded, readjusting his glasses as shed found that he was apt to do when shed made a move he didnt expect. That does seem really cheap, he admitted, peering down at the board like an old man. Did he give you a reason at all? Rook to C1.
She let out a huffy breath and tossed one of her long braids over her shoulder, immediately drawing it back to run her hands over while she thought. Yes. Her hand fluttered over her rook for a moment before she drew it back, eyes darting around the board as she guessed at the succession of moves that would follow that choice. He said she trailed off, tightening her lips and gra
Rain BootJon? she called down the stairs, without looking away from the mirror she leaned towards, carefully applying mascara to neatly curled lashes. She had one stocking on, and a pair of sensible black pumps were tossed haphazardly on the counter, dangerously close to the curling iron. Jon, is it still raining? There was the comfortable sound of sock-footed footfalls from downstairs and the creak of the heavy front door being pulled open. A muffled pattering of rain was answer enough.Rain Boot6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Yeah, Jon called up the stairs. Its really coming down. You sure you dont want me to drive you?
Yeah, she called back down, trying to cap the mascara and succeeding only in putting a heavy line of black down the palm of her hand. She cursed quietly to herself and scrabbled for her makeup remover in the medicine cabinet. Ill be fine, the sedans four-wheel drive.
She heard the clink of a spoon against a ceramic mug and
Seven YearsWheres Daddy going?Seven Years8 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Quiet. Mommys busy. The harsh rake of a metal zipper closing. The girl carefully lays her bear on the bed covers, then picks him up again.
When will he be back?
When hes finished.
Finished doing what hes doing.
What is he doing? Her mother pulls the curtains, shutting out the dull, feeble light of the muted sun.
So many damn questions. The squeak of the springs as she lifts the heavy suitcase off of the sagging mattress.
Will he be back for my birthday? The timid voice questions.
No? But he said he would get me a bike, a blue one, we saw it in the window and he said I could have it for my birthd-
No. He wont be back for your birthday.
Im getting old, arent I mommy? she asks proudly.
Old? Hell, youre only six. A raspy laugh, a smoker
lie to me.Ilie to me.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
am the way a child knows without being told that her father will never return home. (I am the reason why the fatal moment strikes hershe is too young to understand what the hurt means but old enough to feel it.)
am the way a husband's heart stops when his wife takes her last breath. (I am the reason why their hearts beat in tandem, why his arrests along with hers.)
am the way you felt when your brother died, in a cold hospital bed too many miles away from you. (I am the reason why your heart broke when you realized that your bones and marrow and prayer did not save him.)
am nothing like death. Death wants nothing to do with you, is concerned only with his own work, is only a silent whirlwind, uncaring. Death walks in the dark and leads your loves away, and does not once look back.
but I look back.
I am the one who lingers after death comes to call, who stays to whisper and to mourn. I am the one who understands you. I have tasted your sorrow, I have known your ways; I am
several confessions.i.several confessions.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I admit that sometimes I want you.
I admit that sometimes I watch you from the corner of my eye, watch you to make sure you are watching me as I smile at someone else. I laugh effortlessly, stretch, sweep back my hair, and hope that to you it looks real.
On days like this, every movement I make is calculated, designed to taunt you. On days like this I am weak, worthless, easily conqueredone touch, one glance would ruin me. And then I look at you again and want to be conquered.
I admit that you make me breathe faster. My lungs respond to your nearness with panic because to me you are a threat. You are a predator, you are dangerous, you are a reason for adrenaline. Human bodies perform better when they are afraid and I am afraid (of what you do to me) of you.
I admit that I believe we are a possibility, because you are beautiful and I am beautiful and together we would be explosive. Once I heard someone say that we should be together, and secretly my b
Responding to KitestringsDestroying BeautyResponding to Kitestrings6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I told you it was because I was afraid of something so beautiful.
I told you you were beautiful. It makes me think you weren't listening
when all you do is remind me of broken things.
Their wings are a product of something I can't understand, and
something I can't have. I
take them away, so something will stand here with me
while I'm Earthbound.
The kite was a kite
and breaking it was not a symbol.
I couldn't hold onto the strings right and
I didn't lie to you about looking like a goddess. If
you had listened to me, maybe you would feel better now.
I got a new one,
maybe easier to handle
even if it blocked out more of the sky.
You say you're ocean-bound and watching shipwrecks, but
a bird's eye view sees more. And I tell myself
it's better for you to stay there, because if you're crying now
over what you can see there,
Even being where I want to be and flying cannot make up for
everything I cannot
Suffer "Oh! Woe is me, that thy piggy friends did insult me with such fervor!" Milo declared dramatically, throwing a hand in the air, the other placed over his heart. The girl sitting on the bed in front of him did not look amused, however, her pretty face anxious instead.Suffer5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As people went, these two were as different as could possibly be. Where Milo was ever the dramatic one with his erratic behavior, Ann preferred to blend into the crowd, letting only those who were close to her know how different she truly was from the norm. His friends thought she was boring- her friends thought he was childish and annoying. Ann thought Milo was unique, with a contagious and sweet personality- Milo thought Ann was mysterious and alluring, and altogether perfect.
"I'm so sorry about that," Ann said sincerely but softly, eyes on the floor and a guilty expression on her face, "My friends- they're terrible." Milo looked over at her, and, noticing the tears in her eyes, padded over
ReptilianI fancy you, forReptilian7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
you are my alligator
please don't eat my heart
Euclidian GeometryIEuclidian Geometry6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is what plane geometry (Euclidian geometry)
it tells me that [a];
(the long, curving line
of your neck, outlined
in the darkest of chestnut curls)
(the swell of your hip
rising from the sheets, the sweet temptation
and the beautiful mystery of the
(the wonder that you
perhaps do not see in my gaze
when you catch me
Euclids Five Postulates
1. Let the following be postulated: to follow
with my fingertips
the flower of your lips
and the swans curve of your
2. To produce [extend] a finite limb with infinite
ad infinitum widening my eyes
and awing me with your
unwitting dancers grace
3. To describe a circle on the
glorious plateau of your stomach
to trace around your belly button
navigating the breathtaking landscape
of your valleys and knolls
There's a Body on my TablePaul unlocked, locked, unlocked, locked, unlocked, locked and unlocked the door before pushing it open. He took off his shoes, left one first, and laid them by the door in perfect parallel to each other.There's a Body on my Table7 years ago in Horror More Like This
Im home, he called, and from the top of the stairs the fish in his aquarium burbled in response. He counted his steps to the kitchen one, two, three...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. He lined up his feet and looked at the digital clock on the microwave - 6:04. He waited patiently, watching, until ah, 6:05. Letting out the breath hed been holding, he turned to the kitchen table and-
Oh, God. Paul was suddenly acutely aware of his pounding heartbeat in his ears. He somehow managed to steady himself against the chair back and remain upright, but he knew he would faint if he couldnt get himself under control. And he couldnt faint. That wasnt in the Routine.
He steeled himself and looked at the table again.
A dead fly on his kitche
When, WhenIts like when you ran over my cat last December and I said it was okay but it really wasnt and you tighten your grip on my arm and I dont care anymore because, fuck, it was just a cat right?When, When6 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Or when we went bowling and I pulled sevens and nines all night and you bowled strike after strike after golden strike and I swear you were immaculate and floating when you jumped victorious and I sat by the score sheet and all the powers of man and nature and beast and god were barely able to keep my head up and my eyes focused on the ocular feast, the glory of you.
And when we were walking home after the movies and the wind blew acerbic and jealous and stricken blind, groping to finger flesh within our coats and scarves and boots like the denizens of Sodom and Gomorrah and we are as Lots daughters left like the lamb for the spiritual slaughter but the angels come in the form of your father in the family minivan offering us a ride and I desperately want to say yes but you s
mi, a name I call myselfThe first day you had piano lessons, your older sister cried, because neither of you had been to school yet and the waiting room full of strange children scared her, and so your mother had to take her outside and feed her an orange slice by slice before she would stop. She came back in sticky with juice and tears to find you with a toy keyboard in your lap, tapping gently at it as if every accidental harmony was intended, and as if every clang of wrong notes was secretly a masterpiece.mi, a name I call myself5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
When your names were called it was you who had to be dragged away into the room where the real piano waited, and where the teacher was polishing her glasses impatiently. Your mother apologized, twice.
The teacher was a young woman, but her hair was tied in a severe bun--her skirt was long, her glasses wire-rimmed, her skin tight over her cheekbones.
Do, a deer, a female deer
Re, a drop of golden sun
Mi, a name I call myself
Fa, a long, long way to run
Sol, a needle pulling thread
La, a note that follo
Tightrope I decided now that I am a dare-devil, a risk-taker, someone who loves to look a challenge in the eye. There's a large chance that it is because of my pride that I cannot pass up any type of provocation, or it may just be a way for me to inject some excitement into a previously dull life.Tightrope5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I know now that the greatest challenge I ever took on was you. You were dangerous and extreme, throwing sparks off into a black, boring scene, and being with you was like foolishly walking over a tightrope with no past experience. Never knowing how much danger there truly is until, looking down, the world is so many feet below. With you, the adrenaline was always present- the sparks that you so easily threw off became fireworks when we were together.
I understand now why we could never be happy together. A person can never truly trust that they are not going to fall off the tightrope, and in the same way, I could not trust you. You blazed through my life, spout
abortionSix weeks old today mummy,abortion11 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a birthday present for me,
A pair of big blue eyes,
through one i day i will see.
Where are we going mummy,
with the rain splashing down,
when it hits the pavement,
it makes a funny sound.
Bang! through the white doors,
people dressed in green,
if they try to hurt you mummy,
just run away and scream.
Help me mummy,
their tearing me apart,
there goes my big blue eyes,
there goes my little heart.
I love you mummy,
really i do,
but the worst thing is, mummy,
i thought you loved me too!!!
It's MagicOnce there was a girl who was born from a stone and she had a star for a heart. One day she met a boy and put her heart in his hands. And it was magic.It's Magic7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Toby didn't get along with the other children at recess. Toby didn't get along with the other children at all. It wasn't that they didn't want to be his friend - children are so accepting at that age - but Toby had no interest in them. So he left them alone, and they him.
At the edge of the playground, just barely within school grounds, there was a little hillock, like the rounded belly of a pregnant woman. The hill bore a massive, gnarled oak. Its branches spread like a canopy, turning the grass, dandelion and clover-studded, into its own shady glade, a meadow elevated above the shouts and laughter of the children at play. Running beside the hill, and out of bounds to students at recess, was a little creek. It was a simple thing, and Toby delighted in it. He sat every day, from the beginning until the end of recess, against the
Spirit Willing?I saw you on the news last nightSpirit Willing?6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You were in your house, burning alive
The look in your eye said youd rather be somewhere else
We all cheered when they pulled you from a window
And whisked you away in sirens and lights
We were so happy we almost got off the couch
Every one of us wanted to own the hands that pulled you free
We knew we could fix you
We knew we could make you whole again
But when we went for a walk
And saw your face at the window, wreathed in flames
We excused ourselves and carried on
Because saving people was for Jesus and firemen
And armchair heroes with yellow ribbons on their cars
And you suddenly werent worth the possibility
of singed hands and smoky odors on our clothes
EPIC: in which they are short a bed"Oh, for heaven's!"EPIC: in which they are short a bed3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Robin, straining with her shoulder to the massive wooden door, managed finally to shove it closed and wedge the rusted latch into place before turning to see what had prompted Matthew's exasperated outburst.
"They only gave us one bed," he explained with a helpless gesture. "Again."
Robin shut her eyes briefly and tried to breathe slowly. "Why," she said, "do they always assume we're together?"
Matthew scowled and kicked a bedpost. "Given how often we try to kill each other, you'd think they'd get the hint. Alright, fine, I'll sleep on the floor."
Robin let out a most unattractive snort that she tried, belatedly, to pass off as a cough. Matthew, not taken in, thumped her on the back with unnecessary gusto, making her actually cough. "You're just going to wake up in the morning whining about how cold you were and how sore your back is and how you couldn't possibly walk for another whole day after huddling miserably on the floorboards all night," she said, with
kerosene and lightsi am sure, my dear,kerosene and lights7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that if you were given the chance
you would cover the world in gasoline,
your clothes reeking,
your hands slick,
and then you would light a cigarette,
casually, leaning against the wall,
your eyes dark.
you would stop at smoking it, though,
because youd always hated
the black taste of it
even when it was on someone elses tongue,
and anyways you would rather rebel
with more class.
you would look up into the sky,
and the blue would overwhelm you.
you would turn your face up,
seeking the sun because
heat is life, and
maybe it might have saved you.
your face would be wet
with gasoline or sweat or tears,
but even the tears would not be
enough to stop you
from throwing the cigarette
Following HerFingertips brush away stray hairs, arms are secure around her shouldersFollowing Her6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He watches her, like her own dearest angel
While he sleeps on the other side of the world, his sleeping seconds belong to her
He wants her to claim him, sending living hints in his waking words
She puts to clues together but doubts their reality
Frustrated sighs in the sun and under the clouds
Their separate reasons are close to the same revelation
They are each other, connected by unseen fibers stretching
Threatening to snap them together
He draws the curve of her smile in his mind, the shine in her eyes
She tries to taste him around her, not quite failing nor quite succeeding
Clueless wandering, orbiting around her
Hysteria rising in his throat, he screams against her skin
Cries into her neck, she only feels the memory of whispers
Locking his eyes on her face, he steps back to reality
Dreaming of when shell join him there
Love Me DoProsper was feeling mildly awkward. He knew that it was expected, routine even, to meet his girlfriend's parents and family, but it didn't make the situation any less nerve-wracking. He had endured the interrogation from Blaire's father about his life/plans/job/future, her brothers attempting to intimidate him, and her little sister giggling over his accent, and was now convinced that he never wanted to go through anything of the sort again.Love Me Do5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Blaire and Prosper were now sitting cross-legged on her old bed with the door wide open, because, as Blaire had put it, both of them behind closed doors would make her father, Tim, "uncomfortable". Prosper was quite sure that he didn't want to make her dad, a large, well-muscled fire-fighter, any form of nervous at all. Especially since her father and brothers seemed to think he needed to be glared at routinely- despite the inevitable warning he had received from them about being with Blaire.
"I know what we can do tonight," Blaire said
fairytales"Mira, if you don't open this door this instant, I'm going to break through your window."fairytales4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Peter, I'm reading."
"Tell me something I don't know. I'm serious. Open the door. We're going out. As in outside. As in into the real world."
"I can't. I'm just getting"
"To the good part. I know. And I don't really care right now. For the last time, open the door."
"No, Peter! I'm sick of you telling me what to do."
"You're being unfair, and we both know it. There's only one thing I ever tell you to do and you ignore me anyways, so it's irrelevant."
"I reserve the right to make my own judgments. I'm an adult."
"No, you're not. You're like some starry-eyed kindergartener. Stuck inin a fairytale world!"
"Then my fairytale world suits me just fine."
"Mira. Please. The rest of the world is moving on without you. Grow up."
"You know what's unfair, Peter Killinger? You telling me to 'grow up' all the time when you only treat me like a little kid!"
"Don't slam things around. What are
tangere: to touchtangere: to touch6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dance with me, he says, and offers his hand.
But I dont know this song, she says, looking doubtfully at him from her chair.
I do. And anyways the gentleman is supposed to lead. She laughs.
All right then. But are you sure?
You should be ashamed of yourself, he says severely. Dont you have any faith?
In you? No. But she takes his hand even as she speaks and lets him help her up. He grins like a boy.
Ah, quite the daredevil, to do such a terrifying thing as dancing, and with a man you dont even trust.
I was always a fool, she tells him, with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
yours and mineyours and mine5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
At first she hadn't minded how empty the house felt when he was gone. While she stayed up, waiting for him, she would imagine the colors they'd use to paint the blank walls, the pictures they would put on the bare shelves. We will make this a home, she had thought, smiling to herself, and when he came in at last she would put her arms around him and smile for him too.
As the months wore on, the walls were painted one by one, and the frames were gradually filled, and she began to believe that they would be alright. But still he worked late, and still she waited for him, staring at the rows of pictures while her coffee grew cold in her hands. She began to notice the silence, and to be uncomfortable in it. It was harder to smile when he opened the door.
And painfully the first few months in their new house stretched into the first few years, and he left work later and later until she started eating dinner without him, washing her plate with only the television for compan
A ContradictionHe watches her, intensely, avidly, passionately, and the more he does, he realizes- knows- that she is changing; becoming someone different for every person she meets. One moment she is laughing, superior, intelligent; tossing her hair back and laughing at the world who cannot hope to keep up with her. She meets the other's eyes unashamedly, radiant with confidence. The next- she is shy, timid, downcast eyes and a faint blush on her cheeks.A Contradiction5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He wants- longs- to tell her that she doesn't need to change. But the words are caught, stuck in his throat, and he finds he has nothing to give her. The air seems still around her, the oxygen seemingly vanished from the way his breath catches when he is near her. He can't look away from her, and he can't bear to look at her, wondering if there was ever any truth- honesty- in her. He knows so much about her: her lips are so often chapped from when she bites them, her hair so often in disarray from when she brushes it out of her