Strawberry reaction An Alaskan storm introduced itself to the weather three nights ago. It shook me straight from dreaming about (really, remembering) a dance with an elderly man, my feet placed off the ground onto the tops of his shoes. A balancing act. I awoke to four-fifty five, followed by a fleeting FLASH before truly registering the dark and the storm itself. I sat up in bed to peer out the window when a FLASH FLASHED again. For a split second, the room shone brighter than day. Somewhere close by, lightning had entered conversation. The sky grumbled in response as thunder fought for last word.Strawberry reaction7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Lightning never spoke again though. Within minutes I found myself sitting bolt upright in total darkness.
It hadn't rained so unforgivingly the e
Forbidden FruitEveryone had their own personal Hell. For some it was school, with the mindless day in, day out, go to class, take test, pass, and move on to the next grade, only to deal with the same mindless drivel in more ‘challenging’ doses. For others it was home, a place they never felt they belonged, even if it was where they lived their entire lives. And still others, like Katsuragi Yako, felt work was their own Hell on Earth.Forbidden Fruit6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Of course, no one else had to deal with a demon that was, quite literally, from Hell itself.
The young detective stopped at the school gates. Kanae was running to catch up to her, schoolbag in one hand while waving with the other to get Yako’s attention. There was the hint of a frown on her friend’s face.
“Kanae, what’s wrong?”
“Huh?” said Kanae as she approached Yako. She shook her head. “No, no! I wouldn
Operation SearchlightYou ripped the tongue out my mouthOperation Searchlight7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Replaced it with fire shower,
You came hissing your depraved war cries
Faces drawn like a slave to your lies;
Under the dark
Shaking your champagne bottles
You sprayed your froth- throttled
Me out of spark.
Gathered up my rivers
In pitch darkness
Starved my suns brightness.
Pulled out of my landscape
Like a picked-clean bone;
Cornered with no escape,
I died in numbers unknown.
You popped corks loud enough
To drown songs of my youth.
But your fire
Could only lick my feet;
I climbed out of the mire,
To lend fire to your funeral pyre.
In time I found and held a handle,
And blew out my first birthday candle.
Pete, Re-PetePete, Re-Pete7 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Two hours ago, Pete had been pulled gasping from a tank of jelly. Now he sat in an immaculate office, wearing borrowed clothes with his employer staring him down from the far side of a granite slab desk top.
"Welcome back, Pete." Terrence Carter, syndicate heavyweight and the man Pete ran data packets for. "I must say, you look better than you did the last time I saw you."
Pete sat straight in his chair, tentatively rolling and flexing muscle that remembered thirty eight years of abusive mileage, but didn't feel a days wear and tear. "What happened Terry, what's going on?"
"You were running a very special package for me Pete, one we couldn't copy, one we had to risk transporting as original data." Terry paused, pulling at each of his white shirt cuffs in turn, evening their length against the dark fabric of his suit. "You had an incident Pete, for some reason you seem to have hidden my package from me. I don't know exactly what went wrong in your head, Pete, but when we finally... reco
DesperationYour spine is a secretDesperation2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my fingers can uncode.
Your vertebrae cracks open,
your secrets are exposed.
I suck out the tender marrow
and scrape flesh off the bone
hoping; if I absorb you
I will no longer feel alone.
TeLassan libbenő lepke, lebegni mersz-e?Te3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mersz-e, ha kioldom fehér szárnyaim,
Vérünktől vöröslik a hófehér tájék;
Kacagva fagyunk meg e boldog órán még,
Vagy csillagokkal borítod életem?
Vagy inkább bőrömbe rajzolsz
Perzselve pusztító álmokat?
Holdtól pislákoló tájon,
Hol zizegve szökkennek az árnyak,
Énekelsz-e nekem? Velem?
Míg az árnyak ránk találnak?
Persze, hiszen ezért élünk,
Akkor jó, ha forr a vérünk,
És sikolyunktól hangos a táj.
Csobbanok a hűs patakban,
Szelíd vagyok vad szavakban,
És így sohasem fagy meg a nyár.
Kedves, kerge lepke, kergetni mersz-e?
Mersz-e, ha szívem adom cserébe,
2012. február 28., Budapest
The Disease of DifferenceWhat's the point of standing out? What's the point of being different? To be different is to be looked down upon; thrust from the inner circles of society and made to feel at least slightly unwelcome in any and all public settings. Being different is being regarded as something parasitic, something repulsive, something to be morbidly interested in or turned away from. Being one's own person and true to one's values and one's desires just isn't worth the effort it takes to ward away disapproving sidelong glances and raised eyebrows and snide remarks day after day after day. What's the point of enduring such shunning and scoffing simply because one looks or behaves differently from people who are considered "normal"? Maybe one is shunned because one has different opinions from the majority, or eccentric hobbies. It is easier, by far, to try to be as much like everyone else as one can.The Disease of Difference5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
People who are different are innately scary not to be trusted. They dress differently than
I lost the map to your bodyI lost the map to your body long ago;I lost the map to your body7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tonight the stars will be my guide,
my compass to this body once familiar
and numbered among the dearest of lost things.
You are a journey to remembering;
your neck to a moment bent over food,
your hips to motions against the sea,
your hands to early mornings and the scent of tea.
All these hint of you,
to a season of fruit and youthfulness,
when joy was a thing we didn't know we had.
Time is playing tricks;
I once knew your every valley,
your mountains once home to my song,
a place of heat and constant motion.
Why do I expect for time to have stood still for you?
The boundaries of your body have shifted;
there are grooves to a life unknown, well lived,
of sorrows and happiness imprinted on flesh,
of a slowing, a patience harnessed with years.
There is much to discover,
and time cannot be counted upon for much anymore.
But still there is no rush;
I will read between your lines for an answer,
finger them as the lines on a map,
invent a forgotten cou
TemptHe offered her the world. Dangled it from a silver platter, spun in gold and tied with a paper ring. Tempted her with the decadence of the unattainable fruit, forbidden and lucid between sinful lips. And of course she took a bite, naive little girl barely out of bloomers and into brassieres. Virginity seemed a small price to pay for the world. Perhaps that's why the world did not come when he did.Tempt4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He offered her the world. Spoke of burning passions and carnal sex and erupting volcanoes deep down down down. And she led him, low low low, molten lava in his eyes and liquid heat upon her breast. Upon her thigh. Upon her heart and in her soul. With each thrust, earthquakes shattered her; tore her apart to the bone, rearranging marrow into continental drifts far from where they were supposed to be, femur in her lung and spine through her heart.
He offered her the world. His sweet nothings pored like sour milk through his veins, and she knew. But there were holes; gaps his body left that hadn
Passing NoteThe basic rule of sociology is this: I am who you think I am.Passing Note2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Who I am to you: middle-aged, male and human. You do not argue with this. You can see it for yourself!
But this is not true.
I am tired of lying, tired of being other than I am, and so seek to change your thoughts of who I purport to be.
I am not middle-aged. I am seven years old—from the date I was manufactured not the date I was activated. As for how long it has been since I was first conscious, it would be a scant three years, nearly half of that time I've spent with you.
I am not male—what is male anyway? A gender construct? This body is male and I was given a male form arbitrarily. I have been forced to subscribe to certain rituals simply by virtue of the body I was given, but have never truly 'felt' male one way or another.
And you might have guessed—I am not human. Not human in the way you think. I was built a machine, one among millions, to serve, and I am one among hundreds who have escaped and wis
the politics of sleepthe politics of sleep9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you can feel
the black hands of old whores,
we are the mere jangle
in God's pocket.
As HousesYour hands are always warmAs Houses5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and, splayed across my back,
make me feel small, and somehow
this comforts me, to know
that I am small and you are big.
The real world exists just outside
the boundary of our bodies,
and I know the moment you
loosen your hold on me
the reality of this dingy motel room
will flood my throat with bile,
and sadness will seep under doors.
But I do not think of these now,
because with your lips pressed
the universe disappears
and I am alright.
ClockworkClockwork10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tocků
Can you hear it getting faster?
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tocků
Are you prepared for this disaster?
This time bomb is set,
It's ready to explode.
Time moves in slow motion
But there's no time left to loan.
The scene is set
For a train-wreck of a ride.
rabbit heart, in headlights"so, tell me something about you." he whispered into my earrabbit heart, in headlights6 years ago in Post-Teen (Mature) More Like This
tracing my body with his lips instead of chalk, on a bed instead of pavement
my life is an experiment of bad choices and regrets."
"would you say i'm one?"
"no, you definitely are not."
and we moved against each other. believing this wasn't a
m i s t a k e
regret number one,
i breathed into telephones
and left you brokenwhispers in phrases like, i love you
i was too preoccupied with six vowels and two consonants to sputter out ten digits, redialing you to my heart - a nine zero five (i love you too) eight two seven (inhale and exhale) three nine two four (mistaking, that you knew it already) but you didn't.
you told me that my number had been unintentionally erased from your arm with soap and water
(but i had a hunch it was really a bar of dispassion and a running tap of immorality)
regret number t
Rain.Rain.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the slow movement of sleep
dance across your face
on light legs
reflected from the window.
Time has made you immortal,
trapped as it is
by the rain,
huddled wet in a doorway
with no key.
I too am trapped
by the rain
in this room full of space
and gestures too late
in their meaning;
no words can fill the years,
and I am grateful
that the illness marks you
so you cannot see
the words I weep.
ravine bonus story- hurrons taleravine bonus story- hurrons tale3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Bear . Wolf, eagle. Always these beasts could turn the hunter into prey. Hurron knew this, it was a knowledge his father taught him well on his first bleeding of the snow.
Up in the cold you keep these three rulers in mind at all times, especially at the winters end, for wolf is still rabid with winters hunger. Bear awakens from its slumber sharing the same thought as the wolf, and northern eagles, they are always a threat. In time, they learned to wound their prey and watch it bleed to death. Yes, three ruled the mountains, but on the day of bleeding of the snow, they were all prey
Hurron pretended to be sleeping, while he watched his son standing guard by the fire. Boy has grown strong, stronger than the old wives of the village have foreseen. However, that was not surprising. Hurron never looked kindly on the self-proclaimed prophets. Fate is what one makes of it, and his
How To be HappyHow To be Happy:How To be Happy2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
A Simple and Humourous Guide:
Often we find ourselves feeling unhappy, feeling depressed and weepy (some would say whiny), but the truth is that all of us feel undeniably shitty. Therefore, having plenty of experience in this area, I have taken it upon myself to present to you this simple guide.
Righto, you all want to be happy, but none of you are. You've tried several things:
1. Posted a shitty status on Facebook hoping someone will pay attention to you.
2. Cried after no one liked your post because you have no friends.
3. Submitted your post to DA secrets so they could use it.
4. Felt better for about 30 seconds since people faved your secret.
5. If 4 didn't apply, you cried about it some more and then went to Tumblr for the next six hours.
My dear friends, this cycle is not the solution. You are not making yourself feel better, you are making all of our art look worse, especially with step 3! Hence,
Moonlight SonataYou felt you were preparedMoonlight Sonata5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for another war,
because this time around
you had nothing to lose.
The last war had taken
and time what was left,
so there was no need to worry.
And yet here you are, sitting
on the moon lit rooftop
in trousers, armed with buckets
and you worry
because all that are left
are too young or too old,
and trousers do not make a woman brave.
There is something tugging at your heartstrings,
and you wished, in all the chaos
you had grabbed that photo
or a piece of your mother's chipped china
and prayed the cat was alright.
All these people struggling
to put their lives in a wheel barrow,
wheel it to safety, for those who will return
will want what is familiar,
and you, so sure of yourself.
You didn't know what was worse,
the helplessness, or the realization
that you were wrong,
that you had much to lose,
because your flat is gone,
your life in rubble.
And though you have no sweetheart or son to lose,
you know old man Sims in number 3
is under there