Seven YearsWheres Daddy going?
Quiet. Mommys busy. The harsh rake of a metal zipper closing. The girl carefully lays her bear on the bed covers, then picks him up again.
When will he be back?
When hes finished.
Finished doing what hes doing.
What is he doing? Her mother pulls the curtains, shutting out the dull, feeble light of the muted sun.
So many damn questions. The squeak of the springs as she lifts the heavy suitcase off of the sagging mattress.
Will he be back for my birthday? The timid voice questions.
No? But he said he would get me a bike, a blue one, we saw it in the window and he said I could have it for my birthd-
No. He wont be back for your birthday.
Im getting old, arent I mommy? she asks proudly.
Old? Hell, youre only six. A raspy laugh, a smoker
Your MoveAll Im saying, she frowned, uncrossing and recrossing her legs under the table, is that he shouldve been a man about it. I dont see why he couldnt say it to my face. You just dont do that sort of thing over the phone. Not after eight months! Rook to C8.Your Move6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He nodded, readjusting his glasses as shed found that he was apt to do when shed made a move he didnt expect. That does seem really cheap, he admitted, peering down at the board like an old man. Did he give you a reason at all? Rook to C1.
She let out a huffy breath and tossed one of her long braids over her shoulder, immediately drawing it back to run her hands over while she thought. Yes. Her hand fluttered over her rook for a moment before she drew it back, eyes darting around the board as she guessed at the succession of moves that would follow that choice. He said she trailed off, tightening her lips and gra
fairytales"Mira, if you don't open this door this instant, I'm going to break through your window."fairytales4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Peter, I'm reading."
"Tell me something I don't know. I'm serious. Open the door. We're going out. As in outside. As in into the real world."
"I can't. I'm just getting"
"To the good part. I know. And I don't really care right now. For the last time, open the door."
"No, Peter! I'm sick of you telling me what to do."
"You're being unfair, and we both know it. There's only one thing I ever tell you to do and you ignore me anyways, so it's irrelevant."
"I reserve the right to make my own judgments. I'm an adult."
"No, you're not. You're like some starry-eyed kindergartener. Stuck inin a fairytale world!"
"Then my fairytale world suits me just fine."
"Mira. Please. The rest of the world is moving on without you. Grow up."
"You know what's unfair, Peter Killinger? You telling me to 'grow up' all the time when you only treat me like a little kid!"
"Don't slam things around. What are
several confessions.i.several confessions.5 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I admit that sometimes I want you.
I admit that sometimes I watch you from the corner of my eye, watch you to make sure you are watching me as I smile at someone else. I laugh effortlessly, stretch, sweep back my hair, and hope that to you it looks real.
On days like this, every movement I make is calculated, designed to taunt you. On days like this I am weak, worthless, easily conqueredone touch, one glance would ruin me. And then I look at you again and want to be conquered.
I admit that you make me breathe faster. My lungs respond to your nearness with panic because to me you are a threat. You are a predator, you are dangerous, you are a reason for adrenaline. Human bodies perform better when they are afraid and I am afraid (of what you do to me) of you.
I admit that I believe we are a possibility, because you are beautiful and I am beautiful and together we would be explosive. Once I heard someone say that we should be together, and secretly my b
Yours and MineWe never got those towels his and hers. Those matching pajamas. Our pillows didnt even match, which I know irked you. Sometimes I wonder if you woke up every morning and immediately felt cross because of my pillow, and yours. Yours and mine.Yours and Mine6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
But if you did, you never showed it. You woke me with a kiss and a smile more radiant than the sunrise that we never saw, nestled deeply as we were in the jungle of apartment buildings. Perhaps, then, you were cross about many things. The way I never put away my shoes, so you always were tripping over them; the way I didnt replace the toilet paper when we ran out; the way I wouldnt write mustard on the grocery list when I used the last of it. If it bothered you, you never said it. I had my flaws, and you had yours. Yours and mine.
I suppose its best we didnt get those towels, those pajamas, matching pillows. Even now little things remind me of you, things that didnt used to have any
lie to me.Ilie to me.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
am the way a child knows without being told that her father will never return home. (I am the reason why the fatal moment strikes hershe is too young to understand what the hurt means but old enough to feel it.)
am the way a husband's heart stops when his wife takes her last breath. (I am the reason why their hearts beat in tandem, why his arrests along with hers.)
am the way you felt when your brother died, in a cold hospital bed too many miles away from you. (I am the reason why your heart broke when you realized that your bones and marrow and prayer did not save him.)
am nothing like death. Death wants nothing to do with you, is concerned only with his own work, is only a silent whirlwind, uncaring. Death walks in the dark and leads your loves away, and does not once look back.
but I look back.
I am the one who lingers after death comes to call, who stays to whisper and to mourn. I am the one who understands you. I have tasted your sorrow, I have known your ways; I am
ten years ago.ten years ago iten years ago.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
knew i was still
a romantic because
my dreams were still
filled with white dresses
and golden rings and
now, i know i am
a skeptic because
i am haunted by
and heated passion
and the faces
real, too real.
It's MagicOnce there was a girl who was born from a stone and she had a star for a heart. One day she met a boy and put her heart in his hands. And it was magic.It's Magic7 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Toby didn't get along with the other children at recess. Toby didn't get along with the other children at all. It wasn't that they didn't want to be his friend - children are so accepting at that age - but Toby had no interest in them. So he left them alone, and they him.
At the edge of the playground, just barely within school grounds, there was a little hillock, like the rounded belly of a pregnant woman. The hill bore a massive, gnarled oak. Its branches spread like a canopy, turning the grass, dandelion and clover-studded, into its own shady glade, a meadow elevated above the shouts and laughter of the children at play. Running beside the hill, and out of bounds to students at recess, was a little creek. It was a simple thing, and Toby delighted in it. He sat every day, from the beginning until the end of recess, against the
he rationed his breathshe rationed his breaths6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
In the ICU she promised she would be back no later than July first, and of course she would visit as soon as she docked.
That was the last promise she ever made him. Her boat was delayed four days.
inchworm.I have a riddle for you, you said, and I smiled,inchworm.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
twisting my hair in my fingers.
good. I like riddles.
if theres a worm, you said, stuck at the bottom of a thirty-foot well,
and every day he climbs two feet up and
every night he slides one foot down
he gets out of the well on the twenty-ninth day, I said.
I know that one.
I have one for you.
you sat back a little and your lips twitched.
okay, you said, hesitantly.
if theres this relationship, I said,
stuck in a huge rut,
and every day it takes one step forward and
three steps back,
when does it reach the point that I can trust you again?
counting to infinity i.counting to infinity5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
capitalization is bad for days like this, because when the sky is gray who needs grammar? grammar is rules and rules are a box, a great glass box with no seamsseamless, faultless, perfect, unbreakablelike rules are supposed to be. rules are what kill you, because the words are like light, they bounce away from the glass and are lost.
but if you are content without the words then rules are what save you, because too far from that box and you are not safe anymore; you will be shot at, you are a target, and you will never run fast enough to hide from sound like bullets. the box is a cage and a shield, both at once, like halves of a circle. impossible, unfathomable, like truth always is.
sound travels at three hundred and forty-three meters per second, faster than you can throw something even as small as a me
Suffer "Oh! Woe is me, that thy piggy friends did insult me with such fervor!" Milo declared dramatically, throwing a hand in the air, the other placed over his heart. The girl sitting on the bed in front of him did not look amused, however, her pretty face anxious instead.Suffer5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
As people went, these two were as different as could possibly be. Where Milo was ever the dramatic one with his erratic behavior, Ann preferred to blend into the crowd, letting only those who were close to her know how different she truly was from the norm. His friends thought she was boring- her friends thought he was childish and annoying. Ann thought Milo was unique, with a contagious and sweet personality- Milo thought Ann was mysterious and alluring, and altogether perfect.
"I'm so sorry about that," Ann said sincerely but softly, eyes on the floor and a guilty expression on her face, "My friends- they're terrible." Milo looked over at her, and, noticing the tears in her eyes, padded over
My InspirationYou once asked me what inspired me, sweet love;My Inspiration4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I shall tell what you want to hear...
It is a girl who isn't clever, but clever in what she knows
and a lost boy who knows exactly where he is going to go.
It is the scent of cologne and smoke and lovemaking
and a man who wears his heart on his sleeve
It is a woman who has always believed in her lover
and he will let her down no more
It is a sick man who is whole again
and the wife who stayed by his side
It is a writer who has found a brand new muse
and the paint of the artist who draws her lover
It is the words of a poet whose trust is renewed
and the warmth in the words of the person who finds love anew
It is the broken hearted girl who is loved and doesn't know
and the tears that are caught in the hands of the unknown lover below
It is the boy with the tuneless guitar who plays it anyway
and the door opening just as you're walking away.
It is the chords of a song which is yet to be sung...
and of course, the sound of a rainstorm wh
Hug"Ha! Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"Hug4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"It is a gun. But I am also happy to see you."
"...I knew it was a gun, Rich. I was making a joke, you know? Because your gun was sticking out like- oh, nevermind. You friggin' aliens will never get the joke."
"You could try the line again? I will laugh this time."
"No. It's ruined now."
"Is that why you are upset, then?"
"I'm not upset. It just would've been a good joke."
"You are upset. Your symptoms show it."
"Gah- I told you to stop doing that! You don't need to know my body temperature or metabolism at the moment or whatever the heck you were looking for. Stop using your weird power things."
"They are not weird."
"Maybe not on Mars."
"I didn't come from Mars."
"You know what I mean!"
"Sometimes I am not sure, little earthling."
"Seriously. Don't call me that."
"I have nothing else to call you, since you stated that you preferred me not to call you Elizabeth Sandra Lener."
"That's my full name. Just call me Liz. D
TwoProsper grumpily banged his feet against the solid wood of the examination table he was sitting atop. He knew his mother was ignoring him, and, even worse, not even bothering to hide it, sitting across the room reading one of the many magazines that where piled on the small tables. He hated going to the doctor. Dr. Knowles always ruffled his hair too hard and talked too loud. If he told Prosper that he had to get a shot he was going to run for it. Stubbornly continuing to glare at his oblivious mother, he clenched his fingers around the edges of the table and waited for the stupid doctor to come in.Two5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
However, when the door finally did open, instead of seeing the large, obnoxious, slightly balding old man that he had come to expect, he was faced with- unexpectedly- the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with long brown hair and a pretty face.
"Hey there, Prosper," she said with a smile that lit up her face, "I'm Jane. Dr. Knowles is on vacation right now, so I'm going to be helping y
Love Me DoProsper was feeling mildly awkward. He knew that it was expected, routine even, to meet his girlfriend's parents and family, but it didn't make the situation any less nerve-wracking. He had endured the interrogation from Blaire's father about his life/plans/job/future, her brothers attempting to intimidate him, and her little sister giggling over his accent, and was now convinced that he never wanted to go through anything of the sort again.Love Me Do5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Blaire and Prosper were now sitting cross-legged on her old bed with the door wide open, because, as Blaire had put it, both of them behind closed doors would make her father, Tim, "uncomfortable". Prosper was quite sure that he didn't want to make her dad, a large, well-muscled fire-fighter, any form of nervous at all. Especially since her father and brothers seemed to think he needed to be glared at routinely- despite the inevitable warning he had received from them about being with Blaire.
"I know what we can do tonight," Blaire said
A Hidden Mischevious StreakThe incessant meowing was going to be the death of that cat, Prosper mused. He wasn't going to be responsible if he snapped and threw it out a window- that meow would bring it out in anyone. He groaned and covered his head with a pillow, wishing Blaire was there to shut Marshmallow up. She had left earlier to go to a class, and, since Prosper had thought she'd been telling the truth when she had said it would be quick, he had foolishly decided to wait for her in her apartment while taking a nap. But here he was, a hour later, and the little demon would not be quiet!A Hidden Mischevious Streak5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Oh, what do you want, beast?" Prosper snapped, glaring at the deceptively cute kitten staring up at him from the floor. The cat merely glared (Prosper wondered idly if it was even possible for cats to glare, and then decided very quickly that they, in fact, could) at him, eying him with the distaste only a cat could manage. Prosper knew for a fact that he was laying in the one spot that the insufferable cat usua
if we are to die tonight: Endgame quickwriteShe sleeps with the gun in the crook of her arm, clutched as close as a lover. She wants to leave it but can't bear to, because the only thing she dreams about now is an attack in the night.if we are to die tonight: Endgame quickwrite3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She can see it, almost taste it, with awful clarity. The way the night air feels on cold skin. The way the glow cubes have faded, casting shifting, obscuring shadows. The way his face looks when he hears their approach in the dark, too close and too fast for any escape.
She has memorized the sound of his voice as he shouts. "Get out," he says, leaping to his feet. "Go!" She sees him set his weapon to his shoulder as if time has slowed. The motion takes years.
She has exactly four seconds to stare at his back--the muscles under the jacket, the thick dark hair that curls just slightly at his neck, the way his knees bend and his arms tense as he braces himself for death.
She can name the moment she cries "No," like a fool, like a sentimental fool who has no place in this game. She can feel the twist o
broken promises and petals.his voice breaks through her mind, travels down her back, and shocks her heart.broken promises and petals.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
his first kiss tastes like candy canes and cotton candy clouds; sweet, fluffy, and nothing else remotely different.
she runs her fingers over his face, and closes her eyes.
her fingers dance out a soft, beautiful dance, and it soon brings her to a high.
"i see." she breathes.
his tenth kiss tastes like salt and pepper; unusual combination, and yet absolutely needed in everything.
her fingers traces out the soon-to-be-familiar lines of her new found piece of art.
colours flow out of her mind's eye and starts to stain the paper.
his fiftieth kiss tastes like heavy drum beats and a soft melody; deafened by the roar in her ears and the purr in her heart.
her fingers discover new colours and lines, and those happily position themselves for her in their right places.
it never stood as solid as it did right now.
his hundredth kiss tastes like home and promises; oh-so-used to it and whispers of
There's a Body on my TablePaul unlocked, locked, unlocked, locked, unlocked, locked and unlocked the door before pushing it open. He took off his shoes, left one first, and laid them by the door in perfect parallel to each other.There's a Body on my Table7 years ago in Horror More Like This
Im home, he called, and from the top of the stairs the fish in his aquarium burbled in response. He counted his steps to the kitchen one, two, three...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. He lined up his feet and looked at the digital clock on the microwave - 6:04. He waited patiently, watching, until ah, 6:05. Letting out the breath hed been holding, he turned to the kitchen table and-
Oh, God. Paul was suddenly acutely aware of his pounding heartbeat in his ears. He somehow managed to steady himself against the chair back and remain upright, but he knew he would faint if he couldnt get himself under control. And he couldnt faint. That wasnt in the Routine.
He steeled himself and looked at the table again.
A dead fly on his kitche
fifth column, sixth sensei have never written a poem about you before so this should be interesting:fifth column, sixth sense3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when i was packing for school my mom laughed at all the stuff i was bringing, and she said
there's no way you're going to need all of that
but every single thing i brought i have loved,
and i loved you too and i brought that with me
even though that's one of those things i don't need
and i actually don't need it it's not one of those artifacts that you throw out
and then three weeks later you're like goddamn,
i really should have kept that ugly shoebox
because i want to cover it with beautiful quotes and stick it on my dresser
a love like this one can't be covered with beautiful things
because the ugly would shine through all the same
my physics teacher says before every quiz,
i don't care about the numbers, i just want to teach you problem-solving skills
so i won't count all the days i have loved you
because this hurt
this is just a problem that can be solved, r
Between Human And BeastThe beast tried to run away but now is squatted on the ground,Between Human And Beast3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Desperate it tries to howl but what comes out is just blood,
With fangs and claws they are ripping off its skin,
They are displaying satisfied a sardonic grin.
While wresting its flesh, humans they claim to be,
Killing the beast, they say is setting the world free,
Bound in chains it lies dreaming to the last breath,
But they won't listen to its despairing cries for a sudden death,
Because the beast is accused of defiance,
Being different - maybe was made with the Devil a compliance.
Lacerating its bruised skin with their crooked teeth,
The beast is wailing, blood gushing from underneath,
Its body turning to a mass of broken bones and slaughtered flesh,
The painful cry extinguish willing to shape a start afresh,
But the poor soul hangs by a thread,
Its eyes are dry, the blood had been shed.
A fact between human and beast,
For which the death of the innocent is a reason to feast,
Someone really owns the power over oth
Soul CollectorBloody murdererSoul Collector3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Damned soul collector
Tell me, how could you extort the life out of those shiny, brown eyes?!
I'm vividly smiling as he slowly dies
Tell me, didn't you fell a thing while giving the poisonous kiss?
I feel every beating of his heart as we are immersing in the bliss
A soul collector, destroyer of the mind,
I'm about to extinguish his light, to leave him lost and blind
I'll encage his ripped soul,
Just after he'll lose the self-control
Don't drag another soul into your disgrace,
Just one more blanked face
Don't kill again with your breath-taking embrace,
I promise, just one more one more stolen core
You know you shouldn't, but your claws are digging already in his chest,
I'm spilling his blood, the flesh I wrest
Don't collect this soul, not this time,
I must capture his soul before he captures mine,
I promise, just
Glass WallI look at you, you look at me,Glass Wall4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I miss the way we used to be,
I call out your name, but you can't hear,
Even if you're standing there, you're far away from here.
I sit and stare,
I know is not my world anymore,
A glass wall separated our lives,
Built by broken promises and lies,
An impenetrable wall without a door.
How could we let this happened?
When we got this to an end?
But now my world is shattering,
With tears in my eyes,
I'm leaning on the wall,
Waiting for this world to fall.
The sky is coming down on me,
Sherds of sun are ripping off my skin,
From the pain soon I'll be set free.
You stare at me,
But your sight is empty,
I touch the glass wall, waiting to flee,
Or maybe just to drown in my own blood,
Destroyed by my expectations,
In the end that's all I've got.
I close my eyes,whispering "goodbye",
I don't hate you, I never really did,
I smile, even if now for me is time to die.