Discordant She often found him out here, in the middle of the field, with the old guitar. He sang to it, crooned to it, told it his deepest secrets, clinging to it as if it was his last friend. She'd sit next to him and just listen to him play for hours, neither of them speaking much to each other, the guitar doing most of the talking.Discordant5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"So why the guitar?" she sometimes asked him.
"What do you mean?" he replied, still picking the strings of the worn acoustic.
"Well, of all the instruments there are in the world, pianos, violins, drums, et cetera, why'd you pick the acoustic?"
"Too sweet, too sweet, the shadows," the guitar hummed.
He looked around, taking in the scenery as if for the first time. "It has memories. It's not that I chose it. It just seemed right."
She would sigh, the guitar (Felix, he called it) would chuckle,
Adam and Evelyn"You're late." The voice was soft and without inflection but Adam knew an accusation when he heard one. He also knew he had about ten seconds to come up with a suitable explanation why. There was a Trifecta aimed at his groin and he had no illusions that the woman holding it wouldn't pull the trigger. Evelyn had always been volatile and she never, ever bluffed. He opted for the truth.Adam and Evelyn5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Silver wanted to meet so I took a little detour. He made me an offer; you, in exchange for the bounty he collected in Beladoni. I really, really want that ship."
Evelyn's trigger finger relaxed a hair. She didn't look hurt or surprised, he hadn't expected her to be, but she no longer looked pissed off. She looked bemused. A tiny rivulet of sweat snaked its way down Adam's back. He and his balls were not safe yet. She had one hard, fast rule and he'd broken it.
"Why is it that some assholes can never take no for an answer?"
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 Watching2 years 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.
A nalu story chapter 1A nalu story chapter 13 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A Nalu Story Chapter 1
Lucy's point of view
It was great me and Natsu were on a picnic together in the park not having a care in the world. Natsu had asked me out as soon I got in the guild it was so cute he got me flowers and everything. The Only bad thing is that we haven't talked much
"Lucy... there's something I need to tell to you"
OMG its love confession I knew it would happen sooner or later.
"What is it Natsu?"
"Stop kidding yourself!"
He scared me at first but I knew what he was talking about.
"We both know this is a dream Lucy. I'm just made up we both know that this
isn't real. So why aren't you listening to me? I've said it before and I'll say it
again, the real Natsu will love way more than me so just wake up and go tell him
how you feel ok?"
"You're right I need to tell him."
I know that this Natsu was just a dream but I couldn't help but kiss him.
Suddenly I woke up it was 6:00 so I got ready to go to the guild hall and tell
Natsu how I felt.
Dust on the Lensi.Dust on the Lens3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He took photographs
as if he were loving
with a broken heart—
Careful set up—
The lighting soft
To smooth the harsh shadows
The colors just right
Sighing against the eye
The model all wrong,
Yet interminably perfect.
He took photographs
as if he were taking a life
Or in the way you fall asleep
or fall in love—
“Slowly, then all at once.”
When he took my photograph,
he also took my breath
and the beat my heart skipped.
AddictionIt hurt. There was an emptiness inside that ate the heart out..slowly. Only the prick of a sharp point could make it go away. A heavy weight was on the soul before the venom pulsed through veins in a wild thrill. It was the only thing that could make this rock bottom lifestyle feel great.Addiction3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A shudder runs through the body as the heart moved such poison through it. It created a pleasurable burn. Spirits were lifted and they soared. Figures danced in front of unfocused eyes, all a blurred and mild entertainment to a lost mind. A soft laugh could be heard in the bare apartment. It was always good at first, happy even.
Just over an hour flies by, and everything begins to darken. A splash of red slams into the eyesight. Sweat secretes from all pores. What used to be celebratory figures begin to tear themselves apart. Screams rip through the mind. In reality a wail splinters the cold empty air. Shattering silence. Neighbors hear, but none move. No help. Now the thrill wants to be stopped. No m
ocean lungsyou weigh something like gravityocean lungs2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in my tired expanse. you are
(my once splendid mountain)
my love is the ocean
that has worn you down.
with my monstrous tongue,
i pulled you in.
as you fall,
sweeping peacefully into the depths
and filling each crevice,
i am learning to inhale shores.
some would say i'm suffocating
and bring me buckets of air (only to have it
escape my slippery grip).
no, the tides need something heavy
to make of her
duetThe earth is not perfectduet4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in its circumference,
it wobbles and shudders
as it sings-
the pitched layers of
and deep molten throbs.
Each person makes a noise
that drowns out the sound
against a tsunami's push
or the tumbling thunder.
Do they ever know the song
before it's too late, will they
mute themselves long enough
to know the words.
When you and I are together
we quietly hum in hopes of
hearing it in tune,
of being a duet in sync.
When we can't, we touch;
the friction of bodies
become tuning forks
vibrating with the tides,
of bird and beast migrating
by the silvery tines of stars
to the music of our only home.