The Dreaming CreekSpace is like a body of water and maybe time is what happens when one can swim around in it.The Dreaming Creek4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Home is where the heart is.
The sun ticks above in the sky shining through green leaves, and I open my eyes to life passing me by. The smell of a creek replaces the days when I cried; I forget I was ever sad when I can be here.
I stand alone and nothingness slips away; I am left with my toes in shallow mud and I’m satisfied with what I did with my day today. I went down to a body of water to contemplate and see everything that I can. I am so fortunate to be here now.
I know this for myself. The mud is soft and yielding, it is easy to please me.
I dip down to scoop up the bottom of the creek and my hands splash into the depth, grabbing some earth. The dark mud transforms my hands into dripping gobs. The tips of my fingers poke through the darkness melting my hands. I love mud.
And I wake up.
Why I'm an AtheistMy dad is an atheist, who was raised Catholic. He came out (get this) in his Confirmation ceremony. My mom is a casual Christian; she's got the whole "I know God is watching but I don't go to church" thing going on. Everyone else in my family is devout to some degree, except maybe my younger relatives. I was baptized, but never brought to church regularly because of my dad. Then my parents split when I was two, and my mom started looking for a church to go to. We found one near where she lived, but only went twice. I haven't set foot in a church since then.Why I'm an Atheist1 year ago in Editorial More Like This
I grew up without God, religion, or Jesus on my mind. Now skip to age 9. My mom was once again living with her family and she had gone out to dinner for the night. My arrangement was to sleep in the same room as my great grandma, who is very religious. She had us pray, and I did it but I felt silly. I tried it a few times at home but it made as much sense to me as wishing. I had stopped wishing on stars at that point and
InsomniaIt happened every night, and this time would be no exception. Jared lay tucked under his covers, staring at the rotating fan of his bedroom ceiling. He could make out the whirring dark shadows that broke off the moonlight pouring from the open window. He counted their monotonous and slow tempo. One. Two. Three. He was already at number 67 when he lost his train of thought. He wondered if It would visit him again tonight; a stupid question to which he already knew the answer. Turning his head, he faced his alarm clock just in time to see the emblazoned 12:55 change to 12:56.Insomnia1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
He sat up in bed and pulled his covers tightly around himself. It would not be long now. He wanted to cry, but couldn't even muster a whimper. The creaking sounds of the ceiling fan above turned into foreboding moans. He shook violently. No matter how tight he pulled the sheets around him, he could still feel a violent chill. The flashing red number changed once more: 12:57.
Jared could hear his own heartbeat. He co