Everything Under the Stars 11Chapter 11: ConfusionEverything Under the Stars 114 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
© Lady Owl
Heather sat quietly on Neelix's bed as another random object went zipping across the room. She sighed out her nose as she made a face.
"I can't believe what I've gotten myself into... this is insane! He's going to ask me to do something crazy.. I just know it! What else could possibly be worth it to him if it wasn't something insane, huh?! What was I thinking to take your advice!"
Veeno didn't answer. He was leaning against the door frame of the main entrance to Neelix's quarters with his arms crossed. He continued to watch as Neelix tore apart his quarters in frustration and looked over at Heather. They both shrugged at one another as they turned their attention back to yet another item being tossed across the room.
"It's not all that bad..." Veeno finally said, "I mean, you are getting his protection after all."
"Yeah and at what price, huh?! Not all that bad..." Neelix repeated Veeno's sentence, mocking him
CW - Letters to the DeadLong, pale fingers thrummed rhythmically against the polished wood of Alexander's desk. The ambassador did not fancy himself a simple man with simple tastes and inclinations, but the steady drumming occupied his attention perfectly for now. The past week had been spent pulling apart the gears in his head that had engineered the most absurd thoughts and curiosities that he didn't particularly care for, and the luxury of simplicity was a welcome change.CW - Letters to the Dead3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
As he aged, Alexander found himself receding further and further from the more sociable occasions that he was required to frequent. He had taken his absence from the events where his presence wasn't vital, though in doing so he would face both Her Majesty and the rest of The Five's thinly veiled annoyance. He would have thought this more anti-social path his personal life took would take a toll on his knack to construe the more vague emotions and intentions of people he surrounded himself with. He assured himself it was his work that kept
Mongolian NamesName MeaningMongolian Names6 years ago in Historical More Like This
Amarbold Strong Peace
Batukhan Firm Ruler
HellsingPxS30kisses-LibraryLibrary ArchivesHellsingPxS30kisses-Library4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He could not get over how much it bothered him. Though Pip Bernadotte had worked for a fair amount of out of the ordinary bosses, ranging from a deranged Somalian warlord to a reserved, polished oil tycoon in Honduras, he had never had a woman quite like this for a boss. If he said that he wasn't intimidated at all by Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, he would be lying through his teeth.
It was difficult to put a finger on it because so much potential existed. Perhaps it was that she never had a hair out of place or that the No-Life King bowed to her, both of these despite her age. The fact that at the age of twenty-three, her stare could floor the most hardened hero baffled him; that glare should have been forged in the fires of war and oceans of blood, not a prim British manor in the countryside.
"Something on your mind, Captain?" She brushed a strand of long, nearly white hair over her shoulder with a gloved hand as she took a drag off of the cigar clenched
In Which Middle School is HellI can still remember with perfect clarity the day in eighth grade when a boy walked up to me at my locker and said, “Hey cutie.” I was sweaty, having just come from gym class, and I was only at my locker to buy some time before I had to go to math class where the teacher hated me and the numbers didn’t make any sense. But there was a boy standing next to me and he called me cute and I had no idea what to say. But I didn’t have to say anything, because the girl he was with just laughed, a cut off cackle into the oversized purse she was fishing through. I turned back to my locker, not saying a word because I was out of my depth and trying to ignore the world.In Which Middle School is Hell2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Either ignorant to the fact that I was still within earshot or apathetic about the whole situation, the girl pressed the boy for answers. “Why would you say that?”
“Fat chicks need love too.” The words were mocking, insincere, and they burned through my body like a poison. I did
What We're Doing♦♦♦♦♦What We're Doing7 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
“After all, rarely do the men who orchestrate wars find themselves holding the instruments. It's those holding the instruments, you see, they go and they die, they die at each others hands, and all their familiars and relations they weep and they cry revenge, and then the whole thing's sunk. Then the whole thing is personal, and if it lasts long enough it is cultural, and then for all the original maestros may wish most dearly to cease the thing it is too late, don't you see. The match is lit, the throat, is slit.”
Private Lanson squirmed, still adjusting to his heavy standard-issue boots, belts, and helm. The drawling voice in the shadow had been going in this vein for a good ten minutes and it hadn't helped him settle into his uniform one bit.
“Wars are fought for other people. For crowns and cravats who failed to keep the peace with words. And also for th
Names of the Holy SpiritOLD TESTAMENTNames of the Holy Spirit5 years ago in Historical More Like This
Breath of the Almighty Job 33:4
Generous Spirit Psalm 51:12
Good Spirit Nehemiah 9:20, Psalm 143:10
The Holy Spirit Psalm 51:11
Spirit of Burning Isaiah 4:4
Where Seagulls Dare “There’s no escape, you know.”Where Seagulls Dare2 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Thomas put his head on one side, slapping the water out of his ear. “Sorry?”
“There’s no escape...from the island.” The heavily bearded man gave him a stare. “The same rocks that sank your vessel have defeated my every attempt at floating a raft.”
“Oh.” Thomas wasn’t sure exactly what one was supposed to say in this situation. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“There’s food enough to get by here, if you don’t mind bitter roots, insects, sour berries. That’s almost the cruellest thing.” Beneath his stitched-leaf hat, his eyes gazed out to sea. “Compared with the open ocean, this place offers a fair chance of survival. But can it really be called living? Trapped here...on the island?”
Noticed in CommittingI started committing suicides. They were small at first, but more grandiose as the months passed.Noticed in Committing2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
At first, I came up with basics: wrist slashing, hanging, overdose, jumping off a building, and stepping off in front of bus. They were all very mundane, really, and if not done properly you just end up living very, very painfully. It was after those routine ways to snuff oneself that I began to get creative.
There was going into a biker bar nude and starting fights with drunk bikers. And when I say "fights", I mean with a knife in my hand. That was a fun night. Everyone was freaked out and angry at the same time. They all wanted to kill me, but they didn't want to touch me either. Eventually, though, they did.
Oh, another good one was sneaking into one of those giant dump trucks at a quarry and letting them dump tons of excavated rocks on me. The driver of the loader always sees you just as it's too late and tries to stop the load.
Au ContraireThere are things that some people in this world never get to experience. You might say that these little things don't matter soverymuch at all; but au contraire, darling, I'd say they're life makers.Au Contraire5 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Some people have never felt the glowing satisfaction that comes from dipping your toes into green river-bed squish after a hike. What it is to feel the smooth pebbles as they relate their gurgling lives to you. What it is to drink spring water from a spring and not a bottle [by the way, darling, that's tap water you're drinking.]
Some people have never understood what it is to lay back in grass and just stare at the sky, or to sit alone and listen. What it is to really smell the flowers and hear the birds. What it is to watch people as they live their lives: watch from a cocoon of lovely solitude.
Some people have never played in the mud or thrown a snowball at their younger brother, or even blown the seeds of a dandelion. They have never known what it is to have the mud squelch aro
Like Only the Stars are WatchingMr. Glenn’s wife died the day before last. Of course, now all their children could talk about was what she would have wanted.Like Only the Stars are Watching1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“She would want a proper burial,” Gary, the eldest, said.
“In the cemetery at Memorial Park,” Martin said.
Gary shook his head. “Much too crowded there. She wouldn’t want to knock elbows with anyone. She would prefer be buried in the Green Meadows Cemetery.”
“No,” Lisa Marie said, slapping her hand against Mr. Glenn’s antique table. “She wouldn’t want a grave. If she was here, she’d tell us to cremate her and spread her ashes across the farm.”
“I don’t think she liked this farm as much as you think,” Kurt said. “We should take the boat and spread her ashes out at sea. She would like that better.”
Lisa Marie huffed and crossed her arms. “Mom told me everything, and I can promise you that what she would want is to be here, on the farm.
The Curious and Peculiar Tale of the Simonov TwinsThe Curious and Peculiarly Tragic Tale of the Simonov TwinsThe Curious and Peculiar Tale of the Simonov Twins10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I have done most of my post-doctorate work alongside Dean Eroslide as he ran Harry Loaine School for Boys. It was a tiny little establishment, set up in a series of pathways and cottages that made up the dormitories and the 'holistic' and 'traditional', designed to accommodate Dean Eroslide's philosophy of natural living: 'clean and untouched life energy regulates all chakras and promotes a positive educational environment'. Needless to say, Harry Loaine School for Boys was a parent's last resort, when everything from Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to Interventions and to Involuntary Hospitalization was never enough. The Dean had no degree of any sort other than a few licenses for Chakra healing and Reiki, so the entirety of the upkeep of the facility remained on the shoulders of these desperate parents--and of course the government kickbacks the School received for keeping me as a full time Child Psychologist
DarknessTell me a story of darkness," the sun asked the moon, but the moon just smiled and shook his head.Darkness2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There is no real darkness," the moon replied. It's really just the absence of light."
The sun was confused. Isn't that what darkness is all about?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face.
Again the moon smiled. Indeed it is. But darkness is an illusion. It doesn't exist."
I'm quite sure it does," the sun said and she seemed very certain. "Everybody is always talking about darkness."
The moon nodded understandingly. Oh, but they talk about a lot of things, don't they? Let me ask you this: Have you ever actually seen darkness?"
The sun went quiet for a moment. She looked down upon the earth in deep contemplation, thinking about what the moon had said, and eventually she had to admit: No, I haven't."
The moon nodded. See. That's what I'm talking about. It doesn't actually exist. Darkness may seem big and scary at times, but it's really
snow melting in midair.there are no words left in her system.snow melting in midair.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
she's beyond alone, and shivering cold. lying curled up naked next to her toilet she begs her unreliable god to let her sleep. she has vomit through her hair and she smells of cheap wine and stale cigarettes.
she feels violated and disgusting, and won't stop telling herself she's a failure.
[but gorgeous, dark haired honey, look at you,
he cries in the shower so no one will hear him. all he can feel is hot mist filling his lungs and cold air falling over his skin from the open door. he lets the water drip down and over his open lips, as he reminds himself how horrible he is.
he falls to his knees and then to his side and the numbness kicks in, the terrible aching pain but the inability to cry, to eat, to sleep.
he tells himself he loves her. he loves her. he loves her.
[but pale boy, what do you know
the roof is spinning and the she tells herself the more she takes the faster she'll fall asleep. they're small - easy to swall
RealWhen they met it was on accident.Real4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her heel caught in a crack on the old sidewalk that was full of them, and her books fell out of her hands and hit the ground almost rhythmically. He thinks that it's the perfect way to meet someone, cliche and nothing embarrassing.
She's had enough cliches to last her a lifetime, and she thinks little of it.
She thinks little of him, to be honest. He is kind and a gentleman, and, at their first meeting, utterly boring. However, boring has a new appeal for her, which is why they meet a second time.
She doesn't realize how much time she spends with him until she calls him one night to talk about nothing at all, simply for the purpose of hearing his voice. The realization scares her more than she wants to admit, and when he picks up after the first ring she tells him that she called the wrong number, apologizes, and hangs up.
Later, she recognizes the fact that he probably knew it was her calling, and finds herself unexpecte
eugenics in bulkBy the time she was twelve they had already decided she would marry a man who could run a five minute mile and speak seven languages. They chose her a husband the same way they had chosen her eyes and her legs and the pale freckles that interrupted her nose - the same way their parents had designed their children and arranged their marriages, strategic.eugenics in bulk3 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her father called her petite reine. He owned an antique chess board carved from ebony wood and maple. Some days she'd sneak into the library, pry open the old chequered box and pick out one of the queens, and she'd turn it round and round, searching for imperfections. It was a plain, ugly thing, huge and fat in her tiny grasp. She had wondered if he thought of her this way.
She wondered the same now.
Her hands were not her own. A businessman in a white coat had grown them slender and strong, built her carbon fiber bones and nails like arrowheads. Her mother reminded her of this when the
FathomlessWe walk along the water's edgeFathomless5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
and the words sink into the hollow of my soul
He tells me how it felt
to know what I could have done -
how I could have been amongst the dead.
In the softest sleep
every word sends me reeling
with each wave of sound
off our tongues.
and it's killing me to know
that my thoughts are swirling
into the void
that I want to jump into the lake
My insides are hollow
and I know,
I'm already sleeping with the fishes
under the black water's skin.
And I wonder when it was
that I ceased to be
because love is a lesson in trial and errorI wish I had the words to tell you what I mean. I used to store sentences between my breaths – things that I couldn’t say at the moment, but wanted to remember. Now I can barely string together enough nouns and verbs to make you understand exactly what you mean to me. And I’m afraid.because love is a lesson in trial and error1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I’m afraid that if I can’t get it together fast enough I’ll lose you. It’s like you're water slipping through my fingers and I’m not quick enough to chase you through the currents. I know enough to know that you’re wild and free in a way that I’ll never be and maybe I’m jealous of that. Or maybe I’m scared. Maybe I know that if I was somehow better or different that I’d have you in a way that no one else has even gotten you, and some days, I think I’ve made it. Some days, I’m sure that I don’t have to be afraid anymore, but then it’s three in the morning and I’m tossing and turning from the waves you
100They say teaching other is the best way to learn.1004 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When you read the words that my minds sings through it's own rubble, through the dust and through the thick smoky clouds, through the darkest of shadows and through the stormy seas, I want to inspire in you a sense of happiness and of familiarity that will make you smile. I cannot be the root of anyone else's pain, of any more tears. I want to teach you, through something as simple as plain sentences, to wear your cuts, your bruises with pride.
I want to teach you that even if you cannot see the horizon in the dark, it is always there, and you can hold you head high towards it through anything, because the day always comes. I want to tell you that no matter how many people cut through the skin of your heart - whether yours is leather or tissue paper - and made you bleed, that there will always be people who will heal your scars and rid you of your aches.
I want to be able to paint your eyes over with the happiness of a thousa
becauseeleven;because5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
remember that night, we were out far too late for our age, and the police drove up. we thought we were so tough until then. our bones shook and rattled beneath our skin and we were fragile little twelve year olds again when they shone their light on us. go home, they told us.
sometimes, i wish i never met you.
sometimes, i wish i still fell asleep in your lounge room
you have golden hair, and you remind me of something that should be hidden away, inside a childrens story book. you remind me of those television shows about princesses. you remind me of poems about girls with skinny fingers and straight teeth.
your eyes are yellow, and in the sun they glow like nothing i've ever seen before.
sometimes i tell myself that you're beautiful for a reason. as if you deserve it, or something.
but sometimes i think i'm just jealous.
seven years ago we were caaloused palms and splintered knees; falling from the monkey bars was our bigges
Night OutIn the night airNight Out5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
I watch a young man OD
two paramedics lift him
onto a stretcher
push him into the ambulance
and carry him away.
Near the half-empty hostel
on a cracked sidewalk,
a man has been glassed.
I watch the security guard
press a hand to his head
to stop the tendrils of blood
from flowing out
in gentle pools around his neck.
Under the flashing lights
of a heat-filled nightclub
under the valium drip
and soft effect of medication
I feel the slow, creeping onset
of a panic attack.
I cry and want to collapse
and my sister takes me away
through the maze of body heat
to the dimly lit green haze
of the exist signs,
onto the crowded, lonely street.
We curl into the hostel beds
and I listen to the soft breaths
of the sleeping girls.
And the tears come silently by;
waves of horror in the night.
As the dawn light seeps through curtained windows
I promise myself
I'll never trust in me
this is half-hearted living.i know i'm going to have to say goodbye soon. and i can't stand it. i won't even think of it outside the confines of this sentence and the sinking feeling I get anytime i'm driving too fast just to get away from this place. these four walls have left me feeling more alone than i ever expected. mostly because this house feels empty. even when everyone is here and even when i can't think because of all the yelling pulsating down the hallways, it's unspeakably hollow. i know it's because this place isn't home anymore. since home is a person and i lost that. i'm not where i'm supposed to be. i'm not with who i'm supposed to be. and i'm not who i'm supposed to be.this is half-hearted living.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
but most of all, i don't know where i belong.
sometimes, when it's late and i can't sleep, i replay the things i miss the most behind my closed eyelids. everything is about you or someone else who is just as gone. these are the things i do to myself when i'm too tired to fight anymore. too tired to even move. too tired to not thin