The Sanctity of LifeI heard that life is sacred, but I don’t know what that word means.The Sanctity of Life2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
A woman outside a clinic told me that a tiny mass of cells was a person, but I didn’t think it looked like one. I heard her say that the bundle of cells was just what a person looked like when it was very small. She said it had the same genetic makeup and all of the same DNA as a fully grown person and therefore had the same right to life. I watched her scratch her nose, dislodging a thousand skin cells containing her full set of DNA, which described her entire genetic makeup. The skin cells died.
The bundle of cells in a pregnant woman’s abdomen would grow into a fully developed human being, she said. That is, unless they didn’t, as was frequently the case. But, the bundle of cells had the potential to grow into a real person. The woman outside the clinic told me that life begins at conception.
If she had said before conception, I might have believed h
Cold CoffeeThere’s a cold cup of coffee on the table by his hand. He can’t stop picking it up and tasting the liquid within, only for it to slide out again with his breath. The man sitting across from him wrinkles his nose at this, but won’t stop talking about the very important Paper in front of him and how everything would be so much simpler if Mr. Staden would just sign, thank you very much and enjoy the rest of your coffee without me.Cold Coffee5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mr. Staden just looks back at the man and the papers, feeling the pen that he holds loosely in his left hand. It’s heavy, but looks cheap. He scribbles it against the napkin coaster and it doesn’t leave a mark, moving it faster back and forth just tears the paper.
“This doesn’t work,” he says, and he watches as the man—the lawyer—reaches inside his bag—his briefcase, where the other Papers are—and produces another pen, this one lighter, blue ink instead of black.
“Here, try this,
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.All Here For A Reason2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
RebootI punched a kid twice in fifth grade for trying to see up Gemini Hetherington’s skirt when her twin brother was home sick. The Hetheringtons could get away with things like that if they ever lifted a fist in the first place, but for a Holthausen it was like a criminal offense, and all of the better-neighborhood parents gasped at the news and wondered what went wrong in my development. I sat in the car while the principal spoke to my dad about it. Through the window I heard him warn that I would no sooner be punching Walt Burtons in elementary than pulling a knife on a man for his wallet in adulthood, and that immediate correction was necessary unless he wanted me to wind up in jail with the rest of the scum of Airedale.Reboot8 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
While my dad tried to calm the principal down, Gemini Hetherington tiptoed up to the window when her nanny was distracted. At first she signed ‘thank you’ to me through the window. She breathed on the glass and drew a heart on the foggy circle. T
LullabyHush, my baby,Lullaby8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
Suddenly “No, please stop! Don’t touch me! No!”Suddenly6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The girl shot up from her bed and out of her dream like a bolt of lightning. Cold sweat rained down her face, her dark brown hair sticking around her umber eyes. It had been four months since the incident but she still had trouble sleeping through the night. Her nightmares continued to haunt her, sometimes even during her waking hours of life.
“No…” she whispered to herself while tears formed in her eyes.
It had been one of those things people saw on Lifetime TV movies and read about in the newspapers, but never thought would happen to them. Her and her friends had stayed out later than seventeen year olds should, into the one and two o’clock hours of the morning. She was only two blocks away from her home and said she could make it by herself. And for the first block she had done so. But as the first c
Poem: Surrender:AbsolutionSurrender:AbsolutionPoem: Surrender:Absolution7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Brother, I am finished.
I will fight no more forever.
I'm wearied so of war; of watching
Bright lives coldly severed
We turned our backs; I walked away
In anger from my brother.
But walking 'round the world just brought us
Back to face each other.
In you I see the opposite
Of everything in me.
Bound in that opposition,
We've never yet been free.
There's no hope of forgiveness
For all we've said and done.
But understanding might make space
For love where there was none.
So I come to you, my brother:
My Other Self, my Friend
The mirrored image I must face
At every cycle's end
I come to you in hope
That if we join our souls together,
Unite our mirrored dreams and pains,
We could end this War forever.
I must be strong for others;
But you know me through and through.
There's no one else to help me now.
I need you, oh I need you!
I'll open to you my utmost self.
(Please help me not to be afraid!)
I'll hold back nothing not even sham
MLK speachI am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.MLK speach2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity.
But one hundred years later, we must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an appalling
The Son, the Father, and Whatever is HolyDo you ever stop to think about thoseThe Son, the Father, and Whatever is Holy8 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Old, old stories bound in myriad cantos?
The kind that are all in iambs and Latin
Or Italian – the language of a world in the grip
Of a renaissance that is seeping drip by drip
Into a darkened age, like so much lantern oil.
I do, but for purely selfish reasons –
I think of them as balm for lesions
That keep popping up in my mind.
Lesions, mind you, that are not literal –
They are but the inlets in the littoral
Region of my morbid thoughts.
When the inlets get flooded, I build leather
Boats to keep myself afloat. Whether
I construct them well is up to interpretation.
I cling to the old stories in cadent verse –
When I am particularly low I rehearse
Them aloud – as my mode of survival.
He never understood that, though –
He never really could, and no
Matter how I tried, it was no use.
He didn’t see that for me finishing
The rhyme kept me from diminishing
Into slow-burning insanity.
It hurts me more than him, t
ActingActingActing5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What is breath?
Does it romance?
Does it enhance?
What is posture?
Does it lie?
Does it adore?
It is an act
What is your circumstance?
Incy, Wincy SpiderIncy, wincy spider climbed up the water spout.Incy, Wincy Spider8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Down came the bleach and washed the spider out.
Out came the spider's guts, they shrivelled in the rain;
And incy, wincy spider never climbed again.
The Paupers Who Saw the World It was fifty feet tall, and appeared to be made entirely out of smoke. When it spoke, it was with a voice of thunder. "You will bring me the Minotaurs of Doom," it said.The Paupers Who Saw the World3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The two humans standing before it had heard this before. The smoke-creature had made the same demand earlier. "I already told you," shouted one of the humans. "One of the Minotaurs disappeared twenty-five years ago. The other one alone won't do you any good!"
"You two are time-travellers. Yes, I know these things. You will fetch both Minotaurs and bring them to me."
"What happens if we don't?"
"I have extended my... I do not know the word in English."
"Arms?" asked one of the humans.
"Tentacles?" suggested the other.
"No!" shouted the smoke-creature, lightning flashing angrily within it.
"Lightning! I have extended my lightning a
I am standingIt's been months since I wanted to break out of my body. Okay, that's a lie. But it's been days. Days since I've felt static scorch underneath my skin, felt colours cutting into my eyes, had to explain that these aren't metaphors. There are so many ways you can get used to living. I wonder if anyone else feels empty when they don't have creatures clawing up through their throat.I am standing7 months ago in Emotional More Like This
I don't know what art is, or what okay is. I like to believe I know it when I feel it, but I'm not so sure I would. I think people expect me to be a lot more insightful than I am right now. I don't think they take into account that boredom is stressful, and stress can shatter you like roots in concrete. Maybe I'm growing. But I don't even know if I'm bored. I feel like a lot of different people, or a lot of aspects of different people, all trying to learn how to stand one another.
It's been days since I wanted to break out of my body. I'm watching the sunrise from the wrong side, but I did sleep. I'm not curlin
Zac Efron TickleZac had just got back from the gym and sat down on the couch, exhausted. He turned on the TV but after a few minutes, fell asleep.Zac Efron Tickle2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He woke up to find himself tied to a chair, he arms behind him and his ankles tied to the legs.
'Hello?' he shouted. 'Hello?' His shouts were answered when Corbin Bleu walked in.
'Hello Zac.' he said. Zac gave him a questionable look. 'I take it that you want an explanation?' he asked.
'Damn right I do!' spat Zac. Corbin walked over to Zac and knelt beside him.
'Well, since we done High School Musical, I've always been second best to you. But now, it's time for revenge!' he said, lifting up Zac's shirt.
'What are you doing?' asked Zac fearfully. He got his answer when Corbin started digging in to Zac's sides, making him arch his back.
'Hahahahahahaha! Stop!' Zac pleaded. Corbin ignored him and went up to his armpits, also digging in to them.
'No! Hahahahahahaha! Please! Hahahaha!' screamed Zac.
'Okay. I will. Here, anyway.' Corbin said evilly. He moved down
The Princess Diaries - Tickle PunishmentThe Princess Diaries - Tickle Punishment2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a typical day behind closed doors. Peach and Daisy were both at each other’s throats again. Though the sisters loved each other very much, they argued like a pair of kids.
"You've been snooping around my stuff again, haven't you Daisy?!" Peach snarled.
"How would you know?! You're being kidnapped every other day!" Daisy replied aggressively.
*Gasp* Peach was taken aback by this comment. "You think I mean for that to happen?!"
"We'll if you don't, you've fooled me!"
Both princesses were quick off the mark to throw the blame at each other. The reason for their arguing this time was because Peach had gotten herself kidnapped again, and while she was playing the damsel in distress, Daisy took the chance to try out some of her beauty products. It may not seem like a world splitting problem, but to the sisters it was pretty major...
"I'm sick of this! Nothing I ever buy is sacred anymore! You thief!" Peach's anger levels were growing at a dangerous pace. The fact that her sister
I Miss You So MuchRemember how when we were little we would play in the park from morning till nightfall? How we used to pretend to be pirates, princesses or adventurers? I miss the smiles we shared and the happiness of the moment. I look around my room and question myself where did the memories go? Are they still there or were they destroyed when you left that terrible night?I Miss You So Much8 months ago in Letters More Like This
I miss your head against my shoulder and your smile. Also, the way your eyes watched the fish in the small pond across the street. God, your little sibling misses you. They lay in your bed for hours and hours on end and ask me where you've gone. I'm still too shaken up to respond. They ask themselves why they didn't take the time to just listen to you or kiss you on the cheek more.
Your classmates miss you, also. They can't bear looking at your old seat. They can feel the emptiness in the room and I think it's eating them alive. They asked themselves why they didn't take you more seriously or stand up for you. Your parents are a m
MaaheWhen the Maaheseum wore off, Onteia knew she was close to death. Her hair had gone white, her eyes were sunken and glassy, her flesh had receded. Those in her pod were the same: decrepit old men and women, none of them older than twenty-five. Outside, the blueshift had pushed every black hole, every brown dwarf, every burst of cosmic radiation from every pulsar in the Galactic Center into visibility. In hyperspace, even someone who never saw the shining beauty brought out by Maaheseum could see what lay beyond the cursory glance that was their lifelong perspective.Maahe1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The pod was nearing its final destination--the spectacular, unmatched glory of a collapsing star. This was what all Travelers longed to see before their inevitable early death from the drug. Onteia reached into the small container at the center of their pod, where there were enough green-tinted black shards to last a hundred Travelers a decade. She took a piece just over an inch long, and set it on her decaying molars, and b
OctoberSerenity, I fell to sleep,October5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And hid behind a deeper dark
That fills the chambers of my chest
And slows my bloody racing heart.
Then foolishness, I dared to dream
Though not of clockwork silver screen
Nor movie stars or speeding cars
I dreamt I was below the stars,
And there you were and there was I
With grass below and light above
Our lamp the spreading summer sky.
So need I even speak of love?
Or shall I only sally on
With baubels here and trinkets there
The way your eyes closed in the night
The shapes my hands wove in your hair?
I woke to pearly winter light
And found no shred of comfort there.
The WaitingRoom is large butThe Waiting4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
paint is peeling,
from panelled walls
and alcoved ceilings.
An old woman is buried
in a damp chair.
A warm smell of piss,
She does not turn but
"Americo, do you remember
your blossoming power?
The whole world despised it
but I loved you dearly.
My wanton child-
Red in matricide,
white in supremacy
and blue here now,
in your rosewood seat"
Americo laughs briskly
at Britannia's slight.
But they are both disturbed
and chilled by the sight,
of Romulus' freshly starched sheets,
and all his leafy golden crowns,
in a tied black bag
beside the door.
FreshmanTeachers prepare you for this for yearsFreshman4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
But only the school aspect
Which, incidentally, doesn't change
Nobody prepares you for what goes on outside of school
Sure, you've heard stories
But you think being a good kid makes you exempt
You don't even notice yourself changing at first
Until one day you look around
And realize you're in McDonald's when your parents think you're at rehearsal
Surrounded by a bunch of practically high teenagers you barely know
Or one of your friends is offering you a cigarette
Or you're coughing up blood on your bedroom floor
Or you're alone in a car with a teenage boy
And suddenly the car crashes
Your parents are the ones to find you, of course
You somehow got less sneaky as you got older
Your parents catch everything you do
They caught you drinking
And the bruises only make them more suspicious
You'll fall in love with someone with a girlfriend
And trust me, that won't end well
Your best friend will lose her virginity
Request: Louis Fears: Part 2So, being tickled twice a day for at least five minutes and being tazered almost hourly wasn’t exactly what Louis had in mind for ‘getting used to being tickled’, but it was working. Maybe a little too well, actually. See, Louis likes things that make his heart race or gets his adrenaline up- bungee jumping a few years ago was the biggest rush he had gotten aside from being onstage.Request: Louis Fears: Part 22 years ago in Humor More Like This
Truth be told, he was starting to like it. And because he knew the others hated it, he respected them more for putting up with him tickling all these years, especially Harry, who was easily the most ticklish person he had ever met. Just wiggling your fingers three inches away from his sides could make the boy giggle and squirm, and Louis had used that to his advantage plenty of times.
But now, the tables were turned, and Louis was squirming and wriggling underneath Harry, whose fingers were wiggling incredibly close to Louis’ stomach. “Remember when you used to mock me for squi
is it blissful?uncertainty pulledis it blissful?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the pin from the grenade
like he pulled the pin
from her hair
and locks fell like silk
waterfalls upon her shoulders,
future happiness fell
like shrapnel, embedding into
the inevitability shook
like war as they shook together
like love shakes every fiber in
our being to convince us of
some things do last forever.
but the days die
as soldiers quiver in their wounds,
regrets that dig deeper the longer
they live entangled in one another
until they die too, eyes fixing into
each others starless nights.
and how gently they went,
he from her, her from him.