The Buddha BellyWhen the girl was youngThe Buddha Belly5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
her first alliteration
was her parents crying
while blowing raspberries
on her tiny stomach
to make her squeal with delight.
If they'd had any inclination
would they have been so liberal
in their choice of phrasing?
No longer a girl,
and far too grown-up
for silly baby games,
a critical eye
before all other ensuing developments.
Breasts are too small
but there's that Buddha belly
peeking shyly out
from angrily pulled-over shirts.
She tries her first diet
the next year
when the boy she's sworn
she'll love forever whispers
"You're cute; I like
Buddha belly, Buddha belly
becomes her mantra
to every pounding step
of the miles she runs.
She imagines the Buddha belly
as a family curse,
a doom called down upon her
Buddha belly, Buddha belly,
she tries starvation first
but it gives her headaches;
she hates to vomit
but she hates the curse more.
A woman now,
CuddlingHe walked into the apartment to see that she had fallen asleep on the couch again like she did almost every time he came home late except for on Fridays, which is why it made him curious. He checked his watch to make sure that he wasn't mistaken and saw that it really was 11:43 on a Friday night. As he looked over at the sleeping woman, his wife, his lover, and his best friend, he smiled. She was beautiful in the low light of the little lamp that sat on the end table beside the couch she slept on. It was early for her to be asleep on a Friday night, or any night for that matter, but he was glad to see her sleeping because most other nights she had so much trouble doing it. She couldn't fall asleep, and when she did, she had nightmares. He kneeled down to look at her to see if she was peacefully sleeping and lo and behold, as he looked at her still form he saw that she was more peaceful and more beautiful than he'd ever imagined.Cuddling5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I love you" he whispered as he kissed her lightly on the
The Wordsmith's ApprenticeThe prophecy had not been specific, but Edric knew that prophecies rarely are. He resigned himself to waiting and hoping, although the hope died quickly. Every so often, a child would find their way into the tent where he sat. Edric would listen to them as he listened to the rest of the crowds, usually dismissing their small words and immature voices the moment they left the tent.The Wordsmith's Apprentice5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Rarer than this, though it happened occasionally, one of these such wandering children would stumble around the colourful canvas structure long enough to discover, either accidentally or through their own skill, the room in which Edric sat. Invariably, the child would peer through the colourful tent flaps that made up the door, awed and slightly frightened by the strange, solemn man sitting motionless on his mat.
After several stolen glimpses, the child would creep forward, growing bolder as they made their way deeper into the mysterious shadows. Sometimes, an irate mother would burst into the tent
14. Waiting"Next! Name please."14. Waiting4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A young woman shuffled forward in line looking nervously at the gatekeeper. "S-sadie" she said.
"Who are you waiting for Sadie?" The gatekeeper asked. He smiled, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes.
"Um, well... Trent. I'm waiting for Trent..." she said. Sadie blushed and her bangs fell over her face, hiding her expression from view.
"Ah yes, Trent." He said, shuffling through a few papers. "Five more years according to our records. Please wait in the terminal to your left."
Sadie stood there a bit surprised. "Five years?" she asked
"Yes." the man said briskly, "have a good day. Next!"
Sadie walked slowly towards the terminal in a daze, "How can I make it that long?" She thought to herself. She looked up as she came to the terminal entrance, a large, neon sign flashed in bold, captivating letters spelling, "Happily Ever After."
"With love," she said "I'll make it with love. Besides if he had died before me, he would have waited right?" Mind made up, she marched in
Midnight SnackTo drink the milk, or not to drink the milk, that is the question.Midnight Snack6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
It's 2:12 in the morning and I'm getting up to eat.
I've been tossing and turning for the past few hours with an empty grumble in my stomach and too tired to get up and quiet it.
I hit the light switch on my nifty light remote and swing my legs out of bed. I look around my room, eyes blinking rapidly, and sigh as I get to my feet. I open my door and walk down the hallway, flipping on lights as I go. I'm almost 20 and I'm still just a bit frightened of the dark. Living room, breakfast room, kitchen, light switch.
I open one cabinet, chips, too noisy. I open the second cabinet, cereal, granola bars, Oreos. Not really hungry for those. I open the refrigerator, grab a Tupperware dish containing slices of ham and proceed to roll myself a ham sandwich, sans bread. I munch away on that looking around my kitchen.
There's a new loaf of bread on the counter and as I finish off my ham I decide I want bread and butter. That's filli
The Memory TreeBut Nurse, I'm not...not...tired... The five-year-old trailed off into a yawn.The Memory Tree7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The old woman raised her eyebrows and chuckled. Not tired, eh? We'll see about that, young prince. She reached down to where he sat on the rug among his toys and hoisted him up with a grunt. Gracious, child; either I have the strength of a frog or you're getting heavier.
A frog!" he giggled, clearly delighted with the idea. Froggies! Ribbit, ribbit, rib-- He ended in a small hiccup and blinked sleepily. Nurse chuckled again and lightly tweaked his nose.
Speaking of frogs (whether they ribbit or hiccup), one of these days I'll have to tell you about Marshwiggles.
What are...what are marsha-wiggles? he asked, cocking his head to one side and putting a finger in his mouth.
Not marsha-wiggles, Caspian. Marsh-wiggles. And don't you go chewing on your fingers now, scolded Nurse, pulling his hand
Grammar PoemGrammar.Grammar Poem5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I fear for the world today.
A world in which, 'Where you at?'
Constitutes as a question.
'I did good.'
'None of them work.'
You have been fooled.
'Where are you?' will suffice.
'I did well.' Is nice.
'None of them works.' Is lovely.
So, my gentle snowflakes,
Perhaps I love grammar a little too much,
And perhaps I'm just exacerbating things,
But damn it,
A world without grammar,
The Strength of StoneThe Strength of StoneThe Strength of Stone5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Captain Rowan Terrek stood on the battlements, gazing out through the crenel at the encroaching Brakkish army. They had been sighted crossing the border two days prior so their arrival had been expected, though Terrek had to admit that he was impressed with how quickly they'd covered the distance to Farheim. They had surely been pushing their soldiers' endurance to the limit on such a forced march.
He supposed that it made sound tactical sense so long as one cared little for the well-being of the troops. The early arrival had prevented Farheim from gathering much in the way of reinforcements from other cities and meant that they'd have to make do with what they had stationed at the city or could portal in which wasn't very much by comparison to the force amassing on their doorstep. Even so, Farheim's wards were almost legendary and would not be easily penetrated, so long as they could keep the Brakkish grou