She'd heard the word from Theodore Rhodes first.
Age eleven at the time, he'd been deeply engrossed in one of his more barbaric videogames when something odd happened: an object, not one of any obvious importance or appeal, had somehow wound up in the middle of his digital path. The brawny thug under his control had inspected the object, jumped on it, punched it, and finally shot at it several times before Theodore decided that the object was just an error, a mistake. A glitch.
And Glitch fancied herself just that.
But even now, as the approximate seventeen-year-old sat at the end of the table two years later, it was clear to her still that something was indeed wrong. For although the girl should have been obvious with her brightly-colored clothing and her friendly demeanor, the people with whom she sat seemed hardly aware of her presence.
There was an odd quiet that hung over the family of five as they a
No Turning Back "You're sure you know what you're doing, young lady?"No Turning Back3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"And you're certain you want to go through with this?"
I take a deep breath. "Yes."
A sly grin. "Right this way."
The tall, wiry man steps out from behind his desk and motions me to the back of his dark, musty antique shop. I'm only slightly hesitant in following, wondering suddenly if this isn't the kind of situation in which a girl might be taken advantage of. But amongst the shop's many ancient items, I catch a glimpse of a thin-bladed samurai sword to my right, and reassure myself that, were Mr. Beanpole here to try anything funny, I could simply lunge for the sword and wield it for all its worth. I nod, pleased with if not proud of my plan of attack.
The shop keeper ducks to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling fan as we move farther and farther back. He looks back to make sure I do the same. I don't; I'm only five foot three.
"Come along, come along, you haven't much time!"
Ideas''Terrible!''Ideas3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
''Let's do it.''
delayeddescend into imaginary time-travel, and unravel the maybesdelayed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in a jungle of pathways,
the road ahead is unclear, so don't
walk any further.
we hold hands, but in a moment
you might let go or pull me closer.
honestly, i don't
know what to expect, but
every second will have
you said you wanted to die like icarus,
forget the future, only to
stumble in beauty.
(even if it drags you down in the end).
Dear Abigail, I Love You. I went to see you today. I don't know if you noticed or not. You never seem to notice me, not really, like I'm something invisible and something you cannot feel. It hurts in my chest, in my heart, every time I see you and you see me but don't really see. I'm sorry I'm even writing you right now, but as a consolation, I'll probably never send it to you either. Because you seem happy how you are. Without me. I use to be though, you use to love me like I still love you and we use to be quite the pair. But you don't remember me, do you?Dear Abigail, I Love You.3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
No, of course not. It's alright though, I'm glad you don't, I'm the guilty party anyway. I was driving that day. That time we were hit, I wasn't paying enough attention, you know. I didn't swerve in time, I didn't make sure you were covered before we hit, I didn't protect you like I should have. And for that, I am sorry. Sorrier than you could ever imagine. I remember staying by your side when you wouldn't wake up,
OdiameTus hermosos ojos continúan observándome, tus benditos ojos que un día se posaron en mí, y desde entonces no me dejaron ir, esas preciosas piedras verdes que amé desde el primer momento en que las vi, y que ahora me miran con rabia, reclamando que anuncie a todos la verdad, enfadados por mi cobardía.Odiame2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Bajo la cabeza, observando el suelo, mientras siento como tu corazón y el mío laten al unísono, mas yo prefiero ignorar todo lo que sé que es verdad, prefiero dejar que te marches, a mi lado nunca serás feliz, simplemente porque soy muy cobarde para enfrentarme al mundo por ti.
Las lágrimas caen de mis ojos cuando levanto la vista, con la decisión de hablar, pero en lugar de aquello, sólo guardo silencio al verte. Sabes lo que voy a decir, sabes que te dejaré partir, sin embargo, mis labios no quieren pronunciar respuesta.
Tú sigues exigiendo que tome una elección, ¿por qué insistes?, ¿desea
Unconditional loveWill you love me when I no longer have arms to cradle you in?Unconditional love3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Or when I no longer have lips to kiss you?
When my heart stops beating and my lungs begin to empty
Will you shed a tear for me?
Will you love me when I no longer have eyes to see you with?
Or when I no longer have ears to hear you cry?
When my mouth refuses to utter as single word, and I can't say I love you
Will you still know that I do?
Will you love me on the rainy day when I rest in peace?
Or in the proceeding future where I am no longer there?
Will you move on and find someone else to love?
Will you know that I am content with that?
What Am I?I lurk in the corners of your mind,What Am I?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Slithering through the undergrowth of ideas
Forsaken and tossed to the abyss,
Emerging from the shadowy depths
When you want me least.
You scowl at me and call me
For my tortuous forms of amusement.
I follow the law of thermodynamics:
I can neither create nor destroy.
How else can I entertain myself but
Inflict such pain on hapless
Beings such as yourself?
The best is letting little bits of
False hope is always cruelest.
As you lie there in agony
Unable to wrench yourself from my grip,
Remember who is the fickle one
And who always keeps their promises.
Hate she who has forsaken you, not me,
For I may cease taunting you for a while
Or simply take a nap.
But unlike the unreliable one
You pay tribute to,
I shall follow you even into the grave.
Asking PermissionFire is a strange thing.Asking Permission3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I felt it twist inside of me
and pull the strings of a
I never thought I would end
up starving once more. Perhaps
it's a strange pyromania, the air
that composes my soul makes
your fire spring to life.
I am on the concrete
Another chance at London rain.
A chance at the fire I once thought
Cadaver ExquisitoCadáver ExquisitoCadaver Exquisito2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Tema: La Libertad
El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.
El sexo es la mejor forma de expresar mi libertad encarcelada.
Cuando mis hombros no sienten el peso del mundo.
Buscamos la libertad, pero ella siempre está. Lo difícil es descubrirla e ir a su encuentro.
Los límites de mi libertad están más allá del espacio, recorriendo hasta los lugares imaginarios.
Pero la libertad en la que vivimos es una encadenada, resulta que estamos atados de tobillos y muñecas, ¿cómo se puede caminar y, al fin volar, de esta manera? La libertad es un valor inalcanzable, a menos de convertirnos en una anarquía y cuando pienso eso, creo que me gusta estar entre cadenas.
Mientras recorro calles siento mis pesadas ataduras y aquella chica camina sin ellas, me gustaría por un tiempo cambiar con ella y sentir si en verdad mi visión es correcta.
Y en esos momentos es cuando pienso que mi libertad está en mis pensamientos, porque mis ideas están libres; si la gente las
MonotonyDay by day.Monotony3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Smile and smile.
Living my life,
There is no other way.
Night after night.
Cry and cry.
I sit alone and watch
As the mournful sun dies.
The dusk is grey,
And the moon descends
To join humanly fray--
To which my heart contends.
Day by day, and
Night after night.
I do not fight.
Reality is finally better than the dreams "It's over.The end.There is no way forward." I said. "Don't you know that after the game the king and the pawn go into the same box?" he replied calmly. "What the fuck does that mean? You are gonna talk shit again,right? That's everything you know to do. This is all a game for you.One stupid game.Even if you lose,you don't care. You've got 3 lives. " I yelled at him. "Life is a game. Rules...Rules are stupid and they are meant to be broken.So,ok,we won't go to heaven,so what?You know,kid,it's always like that. You are up and you're down. But,mostly,you win because you don't really give a fuck." He always knew how to talk shit,always!!!!Reality is finally better than the dreams3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
" I don't wanna go to heaven",I said, "I like it here. Don't you know that life is a fucking stage. It's a comedy for those who can think and a tragedy for the ones who can feel.And all those shadows,my love,are made by our own standing in the sun." Oh,god,what's happeni
Too Cold for HopeHe stares out the window. It's a quiet night. He can faintly see the snowflakes falling in the darkness, peppering the ground with white. His breath fogs up the glass. Silently, he takes in the scene.Too Cold for Hope2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She's not coming back, old man. There's no need to keep waiting for her. She's gone. You're here by yourself. No use hoping otherwise.
He glances at the digital clock beside his bed. The time shines bright red against the surrounding gloom: 2:15 AM. He doesn't have to be up for another four hours. Should he go back to bed and try to get some sleep? No, probably not. There'd be no point. Slowly he steps away from the window and walks out of his room.
In the kitchen he gets a cup out of one of the cabinets, fills it with water from the sink, and gulps it. Then sets the cup on the counter and walks down the hallway that leads to his son's room.
He stands in the doorway, watching his son sleep, observing the boy's back as it rises and falls rhythmically with his steady breathing. His b
A Lesson on Singularities from a Lonely GodA Lesson on Singularities from a Lonely God3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
By the time you read this, we will already be dead.
We thought it could be otherwise, but there was wisdom in that old axiom. In the end, we all die alone. It started, as all things do, with an idea. Simple in its complexity. Brilliant in its simplicity. Just as language cements the bond in the small, so too it divides the large.
Surely language is a gift the ability to map the mind to guttural phonetics and then back again allowing the thoughts of one to be shared by others. But it is an obscenely inadequate gift borne of our animalistic origins. Humans are, after all, just an animal with a communication instinct, weaving words as a spider weaves its web. Language allowed the human animal to form tight knit tribes. It allowed us to thrive. But language and the tribe had outlived their usefulness. We were a global society consisting of a vast population, a million tribes, defined only by our differences. And these differences bred war. Our gre
The Crystal Ball OdysseyPart I: The EndThe Crystal Ball Odyssey4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
So who knows the answer?
Has anyone found who sought?
Can anyone with sight lead us who are blind?
But there are none that can
Some know the way but fear the journey
More still found life and waste theirs holding it
Those who truly know cannot explain it
For they know it is a flightless task
Yet most are those with swirling lies
Who have lost belief and vainly deny
That life is possible for those who kneel
But crawling death that moves in breaths
A crawling grin that hides a scream
A knowledged 'truth' blindly deceived
But of broken compass and bent vein
Are the men of earth who fail to walk
But wander and crawl while hearts dig out
And the mountains grow higher
While they fall farther
The messenger to the valley finds a Sheol
A manmade vex of all beguile
At a loss forsook the messenger flees
To find the way aright once more
For the signs long withered
Hold more to be gleamed
Gripped by tree and water
Than the cries of the mire
So where is there to get to?
What prize is
Wasn't the Color of SunshineYou always had chewed up nails and cuticlesWasn't the Color of Sunshine4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I was in a way, blind.
You had that faint sweet smell of wine,
That reminded me of my home back in California
Except your skin wasn't the color of sunshine.
We would go on picnics and paint the walls of your apartment,
in a twisted sort of way.
But we never weeded the garden.
You left notes in between the pages of my novels in the bookcase,
You knew I would reread them all eventually.
I still find them hidden away.
And I stick them in a tin, in the cupboard.
Next to your ashes
And the knife you used.
A Familiar SightA time-worn cross on a rugged hill:A Familiar Sight3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A familiar sight standing so still
In the rush of the world, it remains the same
With six billion inscriptions. One is my name.
My initials bled into the stained wood
As a testament to what no other could
Do Jesus died a God-cursed death
To forgive me my sins with his last breath.
A time-worn cross on a rugged hill:
So familiar to me, I no longer feel
The sting of the whip, the agony of the tree.
The memory fades that this was for me.
From behind the world shouting in louder cries
A voice echoes through history; travels through time.
'Father, into your hands, my Spirit I give'
With a final gasp, Jesus allowed me to live.
The pain of the cross returns through a daze
I remember it all in a tear-shrouded haze.
I must never forget the true worth of the cross:
The life I was given at the time of His loss.
SWS - Awkward...-Hello.SWS - Awkward...3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
now it's just dirt under my fingernails.Novak carried an umbrella with her everywhere for nine years. And when he asked her why, she told him, "Ever since my dad died, sometimes it feels like the sky is falling."now it's just dirt under my fingernails.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That was six months ago, and he still catches himself checking for cracks between the clouds when it rains.
He likes to remember her eyes. The left was blue and the right was brown, like two people in one, and faded, like old photographs.
But then he remembers that old photographs are the only things she exists in now, and his office will get so small that he needs to go outside to breathe.
He wanted to be gentle, even if he couldn't think of a way how. But things were already ruined between them, and he knew that long before he ever sat her down in his parlor.
"If you have to hate me, I want you to," he said. Her face was deadened by the weight of her pain. "As long as you feel anything for me, I want you to."
She shook her head. And she kept shaking it when he followed her, his bare feet
The Peers (draft 1) - Ch 2The Peers (draft 1) - Ch 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She'd seen him, she was sure of it. Amidst the crowd of savage faces, amidst the hundreds of marchers as they'd emerged from the end of the hazy street, Lark knew she'd seen her father's face. He needed her help. She needed to find him, to take him far, far away from these terrifying people before it was too late.
But Lark's quest was cut short when she was swiftly and suddenly swept off of her feet and flung over someone's shoulder.
The nine-year-old shrieked in protest, kicking and struggling with all of her little girl might. But from the height at which she'd suddenly found herself, there was no doubt as to who her captor was.
"Mr. Borrows!" Lark cried, pounding on the cabby's vast shoulder with tiny hands. "I saw Papa! He's here! Let me go!"
But Borrows had other things to w
Behind a MaskThe face of a wolfBehind a Mask3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The face of a dog
The face of a cat
Or that of a wild tiger
The mask does not cover the face alone
No, it extends to the shoulders
It covers the arms
Stretches down the legs
Enlarges the hands and feet
It reaches to the tip of a limp sweeping tail
The mask is a body that encloses the individual inside
Covers the human that supports and drives it
Though, while unseen
Eyes forget about the Man
They see the suit
They recoil in disgust.
What they see is not human
A taboo, an act so unnatural
That it earns their scorn
Their biting insults and condemning, beating ridicule
The person ceases to be a human
When they enter the suit
When they adopt a playful persona that had been hidden within them
A character of their making that is wrong because it is an animal
It is forbidden and strange
They become the furry
They become the freak
When all they are
From head to foot
Are people with different imaginations
Each, a perfectly unique human being.
Humans cannot wea
was it easy?i.was it easy?3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When I met you, I would only bring tragedies up to the rooftop, or down to the street corner, or to the bike cage. You asked me if any of them were true.
"You make the saddest stories so beautiful with that pen," you said, on the same day that we held hands for the first time and I found out you smoked.
It's all we are now, though. Just more depressing words from my pen. You loved my writing that much; and that was more than me, and it ruined us.
The January before you turned twenty-one, you told me you were afraid to become an adult. "I don't want to be somebody a child will hate."
You had always smelled like peppermint, cologne, and the truth, and it made me so sure when I told you, "You won't be. You're different."
And hey it wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.
We spent the summer talking about baby names and our house in Colorado. You wanted a daughter and I wanted four boys, and one of them had to be called James.
It was October when
Artist, Take Up--Oh beautiful artist, take up yourArtist, Take Up--3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dark materials and sketch
Hold this moment and that
Tight; Caress the grass and the
Trees with your pencil,
Let your pen sing love songs to
The curves of this face,
The soft textures of hair and fur and shirt and skin-
Oh artist, take up
The lonely calling, yours and
The child who waches in her own world,
That painting that lies on the wall...
As a lover, woo:
The world, our playmate and nursemaid,
Loves to be flattered. She will
Stand still for you for years and years,
Mountains holdingh patiently for
Many portraits over millenia,