ClippingsYou press down on the lever, straining for the sound you adore.Clippings1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sharp metal blades clamp down, and a strip of white breaks free. One more snip to go, you've been waiting for this. You slide the clipper a touch right; you squint as you adjust the blade's position; too far and you unearth new fleshy depths, too near and you’ll waste a snip. You take a deep breath and tuck your elbows closer to your ribs. Pull your head lower, closer. Your chest stops rising, the soft whooshing of air from your nostrils stop. Control is vital!
A little white sliver does a dainty somersault flip before falling into darkness. You see its little curlicue flip, but you must move on. You are on a mission, and the goal approaches. Victory will be yours, must be yours. None must survive this purge.
But the sounds you loathe are always loud and clear.
"Are you cutting your skin again? How long have you been at it?! It's all over the floor! Oh my god, your finger
BloodRunning away, again and again through the yearsBlood8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Moving from white square to black and back
Packing and unpacking things without meaning
Carrying them from here to there religiously
The doctor says there’s nothing wrong, but still
I’m up at three, drinking coffee, coughing up blood
Watching the same old ghosts watching me
I don’t have to pack them when I move, they follow
A cannibal who’s eaten everyone around him
I’ve turned on myself now, three toes already gone
Watching the lights of the modem blink yellow
No connection; another cough, another coffee alone
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,Eye of the Storm1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
Strawberry (An ice-cream in December)Strawberry (An ice-cream in December)1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I disassemble –
heart after limp,
brain before muscle.
You hear the pieces fall.
Sometimes, all I can ask for is an itchy blanket over me, and a cup of steaming tea between my calloused fingers, bringing the smell of hot strawberry to my nostrils, until the smile of content overwhelmingly fills my chest. Sometimes, all I can ask for is death.
I don’t like mornings. I never liked mornings. The sun is mocking – glaring from his heaven to a place grey and heavy with nothing but vanity, and shoving his hard light to all the ugliness around. Night is not like that. Night is beautiful. Night smells of wet leaves and falling stars and wishes forgotten in the sigh of two lips touching. Night brings the twittering song of a hidden cricket, a lullaby lost in the fading dreams of two bodies nesting one in another. Night is not like mornings.
The breeze is cool tonight – comforting, dancing around the baby blue curtains of the kitchen. The TV plays in
When life gives you CreepyPasta. XII“'Go find Masky and Hoodie' he says! 'It'll be fun!' he didn't say!” You kicked a small rock once again as you made your way along the path. Stuffing your hands into your pockets, you kept scanning your surroundings with shifty eyes. Sure, you had gotten along fairly with the killers in that mansion, but you knew what else lurked around. Gulping hard, the image of you being slaughtered by the Rake or something passed through your mind. Taking off into a small jog, you wish you would have taken the offer Slenderman gave you when he shoved Smile you way and practically said, 'It's dangerous to go alone, take this.' Now you were almost to the line between the sane killers and the insane killers. 'Wait, did that even make sense?' Hearing a snap of a twig you froze and looked behind you, seeing nothing. Trying to shake off the chill running down your spine, you turned around, only to be meet with something soft to your face. Clenching your teeth together, you took in a deWhen life gives you CreepyPasta. XII1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Corazon de Melon- Un instituto nuevo (parte1)Corazon de Melon- Un instituto nuevo (parte1)2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Llegue al instituto Sweet Amoris.
Me transferieron de mi otra escuela por un problema de conducta, mia y de los demas. Siempre fui molestada por todos alli, como mi buen amigo Kentin. Ahora lo deje solo con esos abusadores, me siento mal por el.
Espero poder empezar de cero en esta escuela, parece una escuela decente y creo que me llevare muy bien con la gente que aqui se encuentre, claro, tengo que esperar que aqui haya gente buena y mala.
Todavia no he ni entrado a la escuela, y una chica extraña vino a hablarme. Cabello negro, y su ropa del mismo color.
-¡Hey Cammy! Cuanto tiempo sin vernos amiga, ¿Como estas?
-¿Y tu quien eres?
-Jeje, muy buena pregunta, mi nombre es ChiNoMiko, ¿Sabes como funcionan las cosas en la escuela?
-No, la verdad no, es mi primer día.
-Ah pues te explico, esta llena de chicos tan guapos y galantes, ademas de apuestos, romanticos, sexies...
-Vine aqui a estudiar.
-Si claro, eso tambien, pero creeme que aqui encontraras a chicos que valen la pena... y alguno
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288Vanguard, Chapter 1: Duncan1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
IndependenceOnce the wind caught on the seaIndependence1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And its dress snagged upon the crests
Like a girl who couldn't help falling
For a boy with too many cracks
Then the wind tumbled between the waves
Crashing with the water when it couldn't find the sky.
I always wanted to live in the sky,
Wrap clouds around me--dip myself into the sea--
And wander into roaring waves
Of emptiness; Rush as the sun crests
Rush like wind and water into the cracks
Of myself, so that maybe I'll stop falling
For people who can't keep themselves from falling
Down, and who won't quit looking at the sky
So they can avoid all the cracks
In the sidewalk as they weave through a people-sea.
Well, I'm not used to riding the crests
Of others' success; I'll make my own waves.
So though my hair falls down in amber waves
I fear the strands will keep on falling
And my white-wash hands in lunar crests
Won't show you a spacious sky
Unless you want to see
Through star-spangled cracks.
Eyes and eggshells shattered, tiny cracks
And the tears stre
Perfect Strangers Club"Step One: Try everything else before you come crying to us."Perfect Strangers Club3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Perfect Strangers Club is a dating service for people who hate themselves. Of course, it doesn't promote itself like that. It's supposed to be a "transformational dating experience" and that sounds peachy at first, but everyone knows it as the dating service of last resort.
The system is pretty extreme. It works like a twelve-step program. Except when you're done with it, you should be a completely different person, or at least have a soul mate. And it's not that the program actually believes in soul mates. It just assumes that if you change with someone enough, you'll inevitably have an intimate connection, like two pieces of candy that melted into each other in a hot car.
Does it work? I've heard a lot of different things. Some people find they get matched with people they really like. At some point, they just start ignoring the program, date like normal, and have relatively successful relationships that
Abril(English version down)Abril2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
La lluvia era la única cosa que podía ver con otros sentidos. La oía repiquetear contra las banquetas y los cristales. La olía mojando el pasto y la basura de las calles. Sentía las gotas frías correr por mi cuello. Degustaba los colores dulces y salados de la lluvia con viento.
Era la única cosa que me mantenía lejos de la navajita que mi mamá tenía.
La niña que había crecido conmigo se llamaba Abril. Era idéntica a mí en todos los aspectos excepto la ropa que usábamos. No hablaba mucho. Yo tampoco. Mamá decía que Abril no hablaba porque había nacido estúpida. Yo no hablaba porque me estaba volviendo estúpida.
Iba a la escuela todos los días y me quedaba allí hasta tarde. Regresaba a mi casa a eso de las seis. Abril también iba a la escuela pero ella salía más temprano. Cuando yo llegaba a la casa llegaba cansada y Abril siempre quería que jugáramos. Muchas veces le tuve que decir que no porque tenía tarea. Tuve que contener mi tristeza al ver su expresió
Jacked UpMy boyfriend slashed one of my car tires.Jacked Up1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
I didn't realise it at first. I had the day off work and we'd been lazing together in our seasonable bed, when he suggested we go out for lunch. Now my boyfriend is many things but keen to leave the house he is not. He likes to be at home, tinkering in the shed and whatnot. I should have been suspicious but it had been such a hazy dreamy morning that I just wanted to spend time with him before Monday morning ruined it all.
It took some time to get out of the house though, because as I was brushing my hair he commented on how it was all lit up from behind by the sun and the look in his eyes simply had to be kissed away.
Can you blame me?
Anyway we got to the car eventually, although he had to rush back into the house to get his wallet. I tried to protest, I could pay, but he insisted. That's when I noticed the tire. At first it only seemed like a flat tire but as I knelt in the autumn debris I saw the hole. I swore.
"What's up babe?" - he was co
Nourishment“So your dad isn’t really your dad?”Nourishment1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
“I have no evidence either way. Therefore, it is unwise to make a conclusion.” I frown at the tip of my pencil. “How do you spell your name?”
“X-U-A-N.” He glances at my paper. “Are you… making a list?”
“I don’t know why you make it sound so insensible, but yes.” I write Xuan next to a bullet point and make another point.
Do I have another point? I hadn’t even finished my toffee before the man who is not my father approached me.
Well, that means the toffee is still in my lunchbox, and I can have two toffees for lunch tomorrow. I write that down.
“…Can I ask why you’re making a list?” He hesitates before everything he says. Will Xuan ever speak to me in a normal tone of voice? Not that I am a good judge of what is and is not normal.
I bite my lip. I want to avoid the question, but that isn’t rational because th
k.n., ii7 9 13 he took a bow overlooking interstate 680:k.n., ii1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
car-comets in full spin,
his dreams planetary, saturnian -
he almost sprouted wings that night and
i cannot say it would not be beautiful;
the palpations of downtown pumping
luminous cells, coursing
through highway veins
and he, standing in the heart of his world
mind ecstatic -
his feet began
to lift just a little.
9 20 13
a few phone calls
and a pair of
fire and bloodi am stormborn;fire and blood7 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
she who dances
with the dragons who
call her mother.
the devourer of a heart
that galloped across a great
grass sea. the queen
who breaks every chain she
sees and will rule over the world
from an iron throne. the
daughter of a mad king who
shall scorch the land with justice.
i am the unburnt.
fire cannot kill a dragon.
Metallica, a dragon that pushed a kid off a cliff“What’s the deal Metallica?” Little 5 year-old Gajeel spat as he saw his father gobble up his rations. Metallica, the Iron Dragon with all his might, stopped eating and stood tall. “What are you complaining about Gajeel?” He roared. It didn’t faze Gajeel at all, he was used to it. “YOU’RE EATING MY FOOD!” Gajeel yelled.Metallica, a dragon that pushed a kid off a cliff8 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
The iron dragon mumbled something under his breath. “Damn that fire dragon…He made raising a kid look so easy… The dragons around me kept raising humans so I just felt left out”.
All of a sudden, Gajeel jumped on Metallica’s food, which contained of dead birds and rabbits. In the beginning, Gajeel refused to eat it which his father said “Starve then”. He did and had no other choice but to eat it and get used to it. “OI BRAT, THAT’S MINE!” Metallica growled as he flicked his disciple off his food pile.
“I better convince Grandine about not gett
BetrayalBetrayalBetrayal7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My dark eyes can no longer show emotion,
I am numb to everything around me.
You were the one to make me this way,
Cold and heartless, filled with only fury.
I believed your good intentions,
I endured your playful ridicule.
I followed you with unyielding devotion,
But you were a fraud. And I? A fool.
You turned away when I needed you most,
Leaving me to a fate so horrendous.
I had lovingly given you my fragile glass heart,
But you broke it into a million pieces.
For a moment I could feel nothing
But the dull throb of ache and depression.
Then it all came crashing down on me:
The sadness, the grief, the anger, the desperation.
I realised my grave mistake,
I had let you use me as your own.
There was nothing more I could do now
Except whimper, scream, thrash and moan.
I pushed you away, shunned you out
And steeled myself for pain.
I slowly began to put my heart back together,
But it was imperfect, never again to be the same.
Now here I stand, emotionless and bitte
The Impossible Quiz: AnswersThe Impossible Quiz: Answers5 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
IMPOSSIBLE QUIZ ANSWERS! YOU CHEATING SWINE!
Answers in BOLD indicate Bomb questions.
1. Four (Count the holes in the words "A Polo" rather than counting the ONE hole in an actual Polo mint)
2. No, but a tin can (An old joke...)
3. K.O. (O.K. backwards)
4. Click "The Answer" in the question
5. Go around the sides of the flash and back in the other side.
6. Shallots (Shallots are small onions, and as it's a square root, the answer must be smaller)
7. An Elephant (The largest thing in real life)
8. Click the tick that appears just below the S and E.
9. The 2nd "That one" (The second answer is pointing to the third box, which was the last question's answer.)
10. False Teeth (Choose Food = Chews Food)
+ 1 SKIP!
11. n (The number 2 follows the word "December" first, and the letter 'n' follows second.)
12. Click the dot on the 'i' (it is the smallest blue dot there!)
13. F'taang (Well, they do kind of make that sound )
14. Torch (Lighter, as in visual light, not weight)
KING MEOver the course of time you have carefully adjusted the shape of the checker piece by scraping it on the concrete floor methodically, quietly, so as to not garner attention.KING ME1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The evening meal arrives in your cell, with a message written on the salt packet: KING ME.
A jolt of adrenaline (KING ME) but you must calm your breathing and eat your dinner as normal. KING ME. You empty the salt packet and chew the paper.
KING ME. It's past midnight (you assume; no clocks) when you jam the slightly modified checker disc into the lens of the video camera. It fits as if made for it.
The wait is agony, but eventually your handler comes to investigate the dead video feed. Between the time he peeps in through the slot to the time his key scrapes in the lock you bolt from your fake-sleeping position and poke the checker piece with a finger. It pops out of the camera into your hand. KING ME.
When the door swings open you are ready for him. Routine has caused everyone to become slack; he does not expect
i haven't forgottentell me, boyi haven't forgotten1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
who is your god.
do not say it
is the limbs
that spread you
do not tell me it is
hands wrapping a head
board, nor a mouth
tugging your name
i want to know who it is
that makes you lucent,
bent beneath the dark,
because there is no divinity
like the one that makes
The World's Greatest ActorThe World’s Greatest Actor, now a father, prepared lunch for his three children. Humming to himself happily, he slathered pieces of bread with peanut butter and jelly. He put them each into individual plastic containers, then the containers into brightly coloured cloth bags along with plums and juice boxes. He wanted to make sure they ate healthy but enjoyed what they ate. He was rewarded with their smiles when his three children came running in. An elder girl in grade two, followed by a twin boy and girl who were in kindergarten, greeted him. He said good morning and picked them all up in a bear hug, kissing them each on the forehead. They laughed and ran to eat their breakfasts, cereal which he had poured for them. When they were done, he followed them up the stairs to make sure each one of them brushed their teeth, washed their hands, and picked up their school bags. He watched them shove their carefully packed lunches into their bags and run out the front door. He stood withThe World's Greatest Actor1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
The Ogre and the LeprechaunThe Ogre and the Leprechaun2 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
** audio now available here: https://soundcloud.com/tom-woodliff/the-ogre-and-the-leprechuan
There once lived an ogre who loved to frolick about freely in his forest domain; setting traps for prey, picking fresh daisies, climbing mighty oak trees and the like. The other forest creatures feared him, for after all, he was an ogre, and ogres have certain, shall we say, reputations. But truth be told, he really wasn't interested in playing the role of a monster. No, he was content with making strawberry jams, creamy porcupine puddings and a number of other fine ogre recipes handed down from his grandmama. His only weakness was that he had a ravenous appetite!
One chilly winter morning, a wee leprechaun happened to stray onto the ogre's land. He was searching for his lost newt, his much beloved pet. Newts can be very difficult to find, as they like to hide under rocks or in tiny crevices. So it had been many days that this parti
Snow-girlShe is ice-cold, my snow-girl. Ice-cold, and snow-white, as beautiful as the frost-rimed spiderswebs lacing our tree. Ice-cold.Snow-girl2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I wrapped her in my coat - see? - but still she holds the Winter in her heart, clings to the ice and the snow and the frost and the steel-surgical-blue of the sky, blue as her eyes (roll back her eyelids, see for yourself. As blue as betrayal, my snow-girl's eyes), and she will not warm herself, no, not for all my asking.
I wrapped her in my coat, and I wound my scarf around her neck three times (you see? Three. Three is lucky. Three threes is magic, but my scarf is not that long), but still she holds the ice and the snow and the frost at the heart of her and she will not warm herself, no, not for all my pleading.
I wrapped her in my coat, and I wound my scarf around her neck, and I covered her feet (you see? Such tiny feet, my snow-girl has. So small. Like doll's feet, china-white), but still she holds the Winter in the heart of her, and she will not wake and
JackMy grandmother fell in love with my grandfather when his skin was still yellow with malaria.Jack2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
At twenty-four, he had just returned from war, his pockets heavy as his heart, weighed down with souvenir scars and unspent bullets. Gaping trenches hung beneath each of his dark eyes like open, sore wounds, or sorer memories. At nineteen, she had not known the taste of oranges. The first time she held one, she bit straight into the pasty skin, expecting sweetness and coming up with shell-fragments.
In the pictures, my grandmother, radiant in her gray wedding dress, stands before my grandfather. Those trenches are still there, still yawning beneath each eye like caskets, but they are beginning to fold under, to fill themselves in. Standing together, they are joined by out-stretched hands, his free fingers reaching up to hold her cheek in his palm, the pale skin there blushing the softest pink: a single petal, unfolding, held erect in his hewn hands. In the pictures, it is there in the space lef