Across the Sea and Around the KotatsuSpringAcross the Sea and Around the Kotatsu2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Mom starts with rice. Japanese rice, one, two, three Japanese cup-fulls of rice grains into the cooker, because Sis eats a lot of this stuff. It's one of her favorite dishes, taco rice, and Mom's always happy to make it for her because it's the only way Sis will eat her tomatoes. But back to the rice. "You want to rinse at least three or four times, until the water's kind of clear," Mom says as she cups her hand under the cooker pot, letting the cloudy water wash over her hand.
Rice cooking's easy though just fill enough water to the point the rice's covered, punch in a time (or set it to "Quick Cook," which with our creaking rice cooker still takes about an hour) and let the cooker do its thing.
Ground meat goes into a well-greased and heated frying pan. Break up the block so that it crumbles into fine little pieces, and do this with wild abandon, because this is taco meat. Mom uses any taco seasoning that happens to be cheap; most seasonings rack up t
Leather Bound Birds When I met her, it was raining, so I offered my umbrella.Leather Bound Birds3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'Here,' I said, touching the girl's wet shoulder lightly, 'Borrow this.'
A small smiled fluttered over her face, 'No,' she murmured, 'The rain, it's inspiring.'
I didn't understand, 'But, but... You're drenched!'
Slowly, she turned to look at me, her eyes were heavy with pity, 'I cannot take up your offer,' she said quietly, 'When the sky is mourning the loss of summer it is only kind to suffer with her. The summer is her child, and every year he vanishes. If we allow ourselves to taste the agony of a grieving mother on our lips, and recognize it for what it truly is, then we ourselves become stronger. More sentient.'
Still perplexed, I asked, 'But aren't tears meant to be salty? This rain is fresh.'
Quite to my surprise, the girl laughed, 'Oh! Don't be so silly!' Her tone wasn't mocking, but it bruised me all the same, 'Whoever said the rain was tears?' She continued, 'No, the sky
ScarsDont be ashamedScars3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your scars are
Only a sign
That you survived
Wear them proud
Head held high
Because you won
Let them see
You have struggled
But you never
Let it win
Show them all
You are strong
Stand up tall
Hold your ground
Dont ever forget
You are strong
You will win
Never give up
WanderlustI've been sleeping with my jeans onWanderlust3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and seatbelt unbuckled,
So I can leave early
before my regret wakes.
In the check-in, on the road,
I distract myself
Walk, go, leave
go further, leave again
I like my life
I never meant to break your
(steady and warm)
But truer ways of joy I found
on the road,
in long railways and stranger tongues
And I'm sorry that we never
Quite catch up with each other.
I never loved goodbyes,
but I love leaving all behind
In the movement I found tranquility,
easing for this burn.
Don't think I'll be able
To ever forget you, no
You're like Venus in the nightly sky,
guiding with your sulphur burn -
you left a mark in me,
in the air I breathe
Though we never quite catch up,
we never quite meet.
And it breaks my heart either way;
I don't want to leave,
but I cannot stay.
GrandmaGrandma – 01.08.1928 – 07.09.2012Grandma2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Death is a gardener, you told me when I was a child.
He has a field full of dandelions, and when one loses its halo, he reaps it.
Then the seeds fly away to heaven and become stars.
Thatīs why we cannot count them.
I know that is not what you believed.
I always knew, because you had told me about God and Paradise.
But I believed,
And somehow I still do.
You always liked the colour yellow, as much as you loved the sun.
You would have loved to become a dandelion.
They do have a halo, I have checked it.
You can see it at sunset.
We often made stars when I was small, you and I.
We went for walks, picking up dandelions and blowing their seeds away.
I have made a lot of stars since you were gone.
At least Iīve tried.
Because I know that it needs no dandelion for you to become
The brightest star in my sky.
After the Clue Hunt Part 1Amy Cahill faced the cealing with her eyes closed.She was remembering herself smashing the prize of the thirty nine clues on Isabel Kabra.A smile grew on her face 'Shes in jail now...'After the Clue Hunt Part 14 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"AMY!!!" Nellie yelled in the living room of the apartment.
"AMY!!!" Dan yelled, at the door of Amy's room.
Amy sat up and opened the door for Dan.
"What do you want?" Amy asked her hands on her hips.
"Lunch time, Uncle Fiske says no lunch until everyone is at the table..He obviously wants me to suffer...SO HURRY UP!!!" Dan replied.
'At least Dan's back to normal..I remember...He wasn't himself...' Amy thought to herself.Amy realized that she hadn't responded yet, and just followed Dan to the kitchen table.Dan didn't wait one second, as soon as he sat down he ate.
Amy admired the plate.Corn, Carrots, and Ham.Something usaul, rather than different kinds of food from different places.She grabbed her fork and picked at the ham.She looked up, seeing Nellie, in her crazy black-blonde hair, digging in on her f
The Story of Banette00000000000000000000000The Story of Banette6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I sit by the dollhouse
I patiently wait.
I feel a bit scared
But she is never late.
The bedroom door opens
Brightening up the gloom
And my lovely owner
Walks into the room
She picks me up tenderly
With a big, loving smile
She hugs me with joy
And she does for a while
On the inside I smile,
I am joyful as well
As Im in her embrace
My heart rings like a bell
Such was the routine
Of my loving girls day
She would hug me a bit
And then we would play
This little delight
Would go on for years
But this happy friendship
Would end with wet tears.
One day she came home
With a radiant grin
She had been late this time
Just where had she been?
She leaned down and said
She had a gift for me
But wait? What is this?
A live Clefairy.
I watched her at play
With her new little friend
But I knew she would stop
I hoped it would end.
But alas, it did not
I became neglected.
The Clefairy was better
And I was rejected.
As she grew older
She forgot about me
Her eyes were only
The Symphony of The Deaf'There is no such thing as a true love story,' sighed the girl, 'There is only tragedy or farce.'The Symphony of The Deaf3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Her friend looked up sceptically, 'You've been reading too much Shakespeare,' he said.
'No...' she murmured, 'I've been watching too much of the real world.'
The boy stood up, and began to pace, 'Reality is a lie, it's an overly used and neglected cliché of a half truth. To find the lovers you so clearly seek, you have to turn to something more obscure...'
It was the girl's turn to look doubting, 'More obscure...?'
'More obscure,' pointed out the boy, 'But more true. Look at the sea and the sky, they have never been parted. Every day they mirror each other's emotions from speckled pink innocence to a bloody red lustfulness. The two of them are locked in a continual embrace... have you ever seen a more well suited couple?'
'And yet they have such spiteful, growling arguments,' the girl fiercely objected, 'The sea lashes out and abu
Of Things UnsaidIt's close to unbearable, these untold feelings.Of Things Unsaid4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Suffocating in this deafening silence.
Conversing so much, and yet so little.
Desire to speak tears at my heart,
But keeping to myself locking everything inside
A sacrifice for the benefit of all.
That is a wish I refuse to deny you.
Without my knowing, I've imprisoned myself.
Though, it's as if I knew from the start
I long to end this façade,
But trepidation is as the bars on my cage.
Disabling me, and reminding me why I'm here.
I've sealed the unspoken words inside
For there is a friendship I refuse to destroy.
Suspended willingly between the dimensions
Of desire and apprehension.
My feelings disappear behind a mastered smile,
Protecting these words from the limelight
Where one is so vulnerable so exposed
I will cover the reality with the illusion,
For there is an ease in you that I refuse to disrupt.
What comes to be spoken is what remains in reality...
And what remains unspoken lies, although
To love the insaneThrough the days, there and here, nowhere now, gone from fear.To love the insane4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In my mind, the music plays, sweet melodies, sharp as blades.
Bleeding deeply, swearing sweetly, voices searing, never hearing.
In this life, I love but two, you know who, the poultry two.
Nameless is thy trail, love within denial.
Into the mists from whence you came, Imotou loves thy never sane.
Bloody tears, whispers in ears, play thy game, and never be the same.
My Artist The first thing I ever saw was her thoughtful face, pondering over me. I didn't smile. I couldn't move. I barely had any life in me at all… I was so stagnant and flat. Yet somehow I was starting to live. I must have been very vivid in her brain.My Artist1 month ago in Short Stories More Like This
The next time she drew me, I was in a much more dynamic pose. That was more like it. I could feel a personality shifting and taking form. I wondered who I was.
My hair got longer on the next page - a bit more wavey - and my eyebrows got a teensy bit sassier. My eyes were the favorite, though. She spent so long on each one, getting them just right. How thankful I was that she always sketched them first; I got to watch her draw the rest of me. Her forehead wrinkled and nose flared when she was most concentrated. She would let out sighs and little gibberish noises with her lips whenever she erased part of me. But whenever something was right, like a special flare i
Random Ramblings of FearI've had a phobia of spiders for as long as I could remember. I never liked them; they always just freaked me out. I think it's the way they creepily walk around. Their legs just stick out like scary little claws or fingers that are ready to strangle you. It's hard to describe, but if you've ever had an irrational fear of something for it's strange looks then you would know as well.Random Ramblings of Fear5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I also have a mild fear of constraint. This has put me in an interesting position as I've had some time to do a little introspective thinking of my life. I've always been a free spirit in a way; running for recreation or swimming in my pool. While I never liked to be bored in the house when nothing was happening, I also had some silly peeves that reminded me of confinement: shoes and handcuffs. Strange duet, right? I'm one of those girls that you could grow up with and almost never see shoes on their feet. I'm talking about those tight, confining sneakers or Vans or whatever people like to wear; they just w
Barstow Station+++TRANSMISSION BEGINS+++Barstow Station6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
We were on the shuttle to Barstow Station when the math began to take hold. It had been over an hour since I jacked the hacked dataslate into the back of my skull, and I had begun to worry that my cogitator had developed a workaround, a resistance, an immunity. But as the lurch of deceleration yanked what was left of my bowels toward the floor, I felt the left side of my body crawl with bugs and soft whores' fingers as my mechanical rightbrain choked on the irreversible computations and self-annihilating fractions I had fed it. Half of my visual and audio input was flooded with error messages and the smell of flowers closing like a reversed time-lapse vid feed.
It took me a moment to register Vera asking if I was alright. I patted her arm reassuringly and tried to tell her I was fine, but all that came out was a 333 digit prime number. She waited patiently for me to finish.
Introductions are in order, or w
My allotment"For a man is destined to but once to live and allotted to each one time to die. This is the way it has been and will always be."My allotment4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Well, I can't really explain how it all happened or even why, so you'll get no help that way. What I can do is tell you what happened and maybe you can help me with the rest.
I was born the same as everyone else, went to school in Bozeman hated it just like everyone else grew up, got a girlfriend, got a job nearby; you know, I was a normal person. I got married and had two kids. I never moved out of the area. When my eldest was just three, war broke out. The entirety of Western Africa decided that it would be a good idea to invade Europe. With the sheer force of their numbers, it only took a few days. They greedily set their eyes on the rest of the world and, joined by certain expansionist nations in Asia, they opened the tides of battle.
Being a patriotic man, as far as you can b
The BattleWalking under a clear night sky,The Battle3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Beneath all of the stars,
A war tears through my soul
Transforming me into the God Mars.
My anger surges forth,
As I strike down my foe,
I drop to a knee
Under the force of a mighty blow.
I strike again,
Rending his heart from his chest,
I reel back in agony...
Taking a moment to rest.
Suddenly reality sets in
And again I fall to a knee,
The realization that the enemy
Has always been me.
DA: Dark City C12Title: Dark CityDA: Dark City C122 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Author: :iconCelticWolfwalker: and :iconRiHouston:
Setting: Modern Day Dragon Age
Character(s): f!Hawke/Cullen and the cast
The sun hadn’t even risen when a dark hooded figure dashed out of the main building at the Academy. The air was cool and damp, morning dew glistening in the false dawn light. The figure skulked, stopping every now and then to look around watching to see if anyone was walking around on the grounds. There was no other figure about in the early pre-dawn of the day. No one suspected that this day was going to be a day no one forgot. Today, the Mages’ Underground took the offensive against the Templar Order.
The dark hooded figure dashed from the front drive and ran across the lawn toward the main road. His breath heaved out heavily when he arrived at a dark car parked off on the side of the road near the academy. Going around to the passenger side and opening the door, he slid into the seat and pushed the
Victory Keep: Chapter 1Edgar stepped into a clearing and found a centaur suckling her child. He threw his hands over his eyes.Victory Keep: Chapter 14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
'I am terribly sorry, madam!'
'It's all right.'
Her tone was scornful, but with better things to worry about, Edgar did not take it to heart. He uncovered his eyes. She was feeding the child like a mare, not a woman, so he felt no need for embarrassment. He stooped down a little, trying to determine the gender of the young one. As with foals, it was easy enough to tell.
'What a delightful little boy,' he said.
The mother smiled. 'Thank you.'
'Do you mind if I sit down here for a few minutes?'
'I am very tired.'
The centaur made no reply. She stood with arms folded and her back legs slightly apart, gazing out into the forest. Edgar was disappointed. The significance of the situation had not escaped him, and he hoped she would talk to him.
The first thing to do was find somewhere to
On -Owl-On -Owl-3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Night-eyes are watching me,
candles in the dark,
a refractory guardian on guileless wings.
Is that the click of pearls I hear,
or enameled talons, a hungry beak?
When she primps and preens,
I sometimes find
in her hair,
sleek pinions under her dress.
Good morning, twilight lady.
the art ofit was too late;the art of4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
far too late,
by the time my gaze found his
across the dim and drunken
tangle of a scene.
his eyes were dark, the color
of burning wood and
dust in a foreign country, the
kind of eyes my mother taught
me to fear, and rightly so;
i could already feel his
handprints welling in a
malady of black and
five-o-clock blue just
beneath my skin, bruises
deeper than bone
as i pushed my way
The Yellowiest DecemberShe was atheist andThe Yellowiest December6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he was a painter who
believed in everything
and the world, the glories
it held, endless fountains of
knowledge to be obtained.
"It's an amazing situation,"
he mused, running his hands
through her red hair.
She believed in asbestos,
that it was her favorite
color and he believed that she
needed more things to believe in.
He ate cranberry sauce while she
read him poetry about cats and disciples
and classical compositions and the
relevance in it all. It
was all he could do to say, "Wow,"
staring at the sky, effusion of clouds
draining, pouring out before dispersing.
Her blue flower dress smelt of
chamomile and tulips and she wore a
yellow chrysanthemum in her hair, his
head rested in her lap, her breathing
Flash cards and timer reminders on
PDA's kept him remembering every
little nuance. "This cupcake is in
celebration of the fifth time
I kissed you and made you blush."
She blushed again before becoming
flustered. A mental note, Twenty-fifth
HellLoveHell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Nothing but a lie
Forever until you die
Always fills your soul
Never to be whole
Saturating your mind
Not a glimmer to find
In your stare
... You're already there.
The World's Delicate Aviary Taking my hand in hers, the girl led me forward. Her skin was as cold as the night sky, and her eyes were as bright and living as the pumping heart of the hare.The World's Delicate Aviary3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
'Come,' She murmured, 'Come with me to my aviary.'
I said nothing, but allowed her to lead me forward into the delicate cage.
'What do you think?' She breathed softly.
It was quite unlike any aviary I'd seen before, 'You have some very strange birds,' I said at last.
'Of course,' The girl laughed lightly, 'It's a special aviary, these aren't normal birds. They represent the world and its vices, without these birds nothing would be.' She pointed, 'You see that Dove? That beautiful bird is the liar. It represents all the untruths which have infected this planet through the millennia.'
Frowning, I asked, 'But aren't doves meant to be a symbol of peace?'
The girl smiled, 'Oh no, that's just another of its lies. Think about it, a dove is really nothing more than a painted pigeon, and t
letter to a suit of armourWe have both been here before,letter to a suit of armour2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Paused, stood, and stared before. And
I have to ask- Is it
the light that keeps you so still?
I've watched it pleading,
its yellow yolk weeping
on the shoulders of
impassive you. It finds no features to cling to.
You look seamless. So tell me,
how did you empty? Was
your person plucked away by a sharp beak? Or did
they wither and decay? Are your bones still
inside? Did you creak
shut like an oyster?
What I mean to ask is
where did your details go? Did you trade
them for a legend, quid pro quo?
And last of all, would you
describe yourself as an elephant skulled accident or
something a little more Faustian?
You're a success, that's for sure:
there's a real crowd here to recieve
your address. You know
what they're looking for:
a scattered palm of bones,
a battle scar,
a nameless quiet they can't remember,
a balmy unknown.
They all look for it. They'll
always look for it. They're in your thrall.
But they'll never find that
sense of an ending. No. Not here.