Second Star To My Right . . .Sweet and darling little angel, I know your heart surely ails,Second Star To My Right . . . in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
when you talk of the past, the heart flutters and then it fails.
Why be so hard on yourself when in fact you're filled pride?
Quit harming yourself over it for it is better to show it so you should not hide.
Brave are you, visionary and hopeful woman to be,
set yourself to the skies, so that you one day will fly free.
Though you cannot see it just yet, I know it lives within,
so open up to write the new pages that are waiting to begin.
The stars and the moon should dance along with you,
I'll gladly join the soiree, even if we are small and few.
Darling little angel, why must you let yourself believe
that you are hurting so badly that you must grieve?
I believe in you when you will not be able to understand,
grasp for my touch when you are in need of a saving hand.
Draw the hallelujah from your beautiful tongue and there attest
that you are destined for only the very best.
I will wipe your tears and remove the doubting fears
Lift your spirit, set it freeHere is the salute to one of Hollywood's best,Lift your spirit, set it free in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
though it shall be small in nature, it surpasses the test.
You swell our hearts with a deep surge of pride,
our hearts still mourn the day that you died.
You were born unto us the year alike of my dear grandmother Anna,
Born unto us Southerner's pride, even if it wasn't in Savannah.
The blue eyes gave us hope in when we lost it elsewhere,
always wanting to be out of the lime light because you really didn't care.
Playing as roguish cowboys, a bandit, an outlaw at the O.K. Corral,
it brings us to grin like you did, it boosts our very moral.
You made friends that you truly did consider family dear,
always wanting to be there for them, always lending an ear.
Then came your chance when the space race in the United States,
three parts were read by your eyes and never once did you hesitate.
Picking the very one that we all know now as the dear ol' Doc known as Bones,
all watched you with eagerness to the televisions where e'er the broadcast roame
Save me from the dark, Lucy...No longer do I wish to see red when I am with you dear,Save me from the dark, Lucy... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
if you knew really what I was, would it cause your heart fill with fear?
A dishonest man to you have I become,
know this my dearest Lucy, with each of us together, we really do belong.
My tools of instantaneous expiration are swiftly quick,
for with one stroke, blood will spill from the little nick.
Death and darkness plagues my very soul,
but I know with you, I surely must learn total control.
For if I were to butcher you as I did with those women of ill repute,
I'd mourn the life of a heavenly angel that I verily took.
I must tell you, Lucy, I really must say. . .
Well. . .maybe tomorrow or. . .another day.
If only I could see. . .If only I could see. . . in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What happened? I awake this morning to find,
that I am on the floor near a door of a different kind.
I cannot seem to recall what has happened, my love,
have I ... I have done something wrong?
You are quiet around me, your eyes give uneasy glances,
please, take my hand and heart as noble advances.
They are to comfort and ease your troubled pain,
I swear it to you, whatever I did, I won't do it again.
I can leave, if you want, never ever to again be seen,
for I can become to you nothing but a former dream.
Is this what you want because I will gladly go,
thus, this is goodbye, Lucius? It would seem so.
I head to the door and there, I find it is locked,
why on Earth would it be this way? I feel mocked.
Looking back to you, I see something I never have seen before:
Lucius, why do you glare at me? UNLOCK the door!
Are you ill? Talk to me, say something immediately, please do!
Lucius, my love, my all, what is this darkness I can see in you?
No! Step back! You are frightening me, I cannot bre
Life is changed, rearranged.The sweltering heat recalls a time to me so dearly as I gaze upward to the heavens, searching for something. The song Remember When comes to play inside my head as I feel tears falling down my face, thinking about you. You're gone from my side, leaving a cold and harsh void where we should be holding each other, recalling the good times. No matter what anyone says to me, whether it be to tell me it'll be all right or that I need to move on, can fill that void.Life is changed, rearranged. in Short Stories More Like This
How can I? How. . .the pitter patters of rain falling on the metal outbuilding, the rushing little feet, hearing the voices that they belonged to. God. I miss you. More than what you really know or what I must know. No longer can I feel your supporting hands, pulling me back up. No longer can I come to you with my darkest times and tell you what I feel. I can't even hold you or you hold me. It is my curse that I shall for all time and only to have you in memories alone. What cruel fate.
I wish I could have saved you the fi
His Glory ResoundsThought I'd never write again, find my voice again, but here it is in glory:His Glory Resounds in Concrete Poetry More Like This
The real world pines for nothing more than a constant feed of mourning.
It leeches when you least want it to, embraces you with a pain worse than death.
Where is it then, a solitude and solace that none can seem to find in this day and age?
Can it ever be found in a book, song, words otherwise said or even by a wise mage?
Nay, ne'er to be seen by any of these unless one looked upward to the skies,
for someone, perhaps could hear the thoughts of millions, both truth and lies.
I know you hear me in my weaknesses and hold me more dearly than a father ought to,
because your heart has always remained faithful even when I know I haven't been true.
Thanks are never enough, but you accept them in any and all forms that I may speak,
You held me then and even now, in this hour, when I feel used and most weak.
You are adored by your creation, loved endlessly for you see me for what I am,
I am your altar for worship,
Wanted Dead or Alive "Quit looking at me that way," a female voice said rather irritably A pair of chocolate eyes twinkled mischief, the body scooted closer. "I said, 'quit looking at me that way' and now. . .stop scooting near me," was the voice's next reply. "Oh, you don't mean that, mon cher, my precious little marionette," came the masculine voice to which the chocolate eyes belonged to. "Trelane, I do, now MOVE." The one that had been referred to as 'Trelane' scooted a few inches. "Come on, my love. Quit reading your little book on Dracula and his sucking dry the virgins of the world."Wanted Dead or Alive in Fan Fiction More Like This
The book moved away from the female's face and the emerald eyes flashed a slight jealous pent up rage. "You keep that mouth of yours shut, if you know what's good for you. I'll have you know first hand that Paul Witcover is an amazing gentleman for writing this. It gives Bela Lugosi and Dwight Frye the respectful homage they deserve." Trelane raised an e
Bear those ills we have...Bear those ills we have... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The screen flickered, the words urging difference, to a future not yet come,
I sit and I ponder of a time not yet passed.
Measures taken to ensure civility and honorable need not met,
They die in vain and with a heavy sigh, we are like they.
Discomfort and troubled trust clouds our perception of what we say and feel,
makes our future generations look on us in confusion, accidentally following.
We lead them into a darkness of hatred and mirthlessness,
damning body, soul and mind - we should be ashamed.
But are we? No. Our foolish pride is a wound that we do not wish to mend,
we fear what will betray us - we cannot decipher foe from friend.
Our hearts and minds only see that no one is to be trusted,
how foolish are we - children, mere infants we have become.
I speak from my mind and heart to our future, please hear me -
saluting will I to the findings and resolutions of peace will set you free.
The undiscovered country is to be had, but alas, I will not be a part,
it is for this reason,
...that was more than loveHello again, my readers. It is so lovely to hear all of your kind words. It is very encouraging, even though I know there is still others who perceive me as evil, even, dare I say? A witch. It is simply no so, unless it is meant to mean that I bewitched James. Ah, yes. James. You thought you knew him well and now you see him (I hope) in a different light. Left you wanting more, I take it? Blame that on my mischievous nature, added with my dearest james. Yes, yes, I know I keep on repeating his name more often now. It cannot be helped, well, at least not by me. Here now -- shall we continue? Good. I thought you would never ask....that was more than love in General More Like This
Now...where we were we? OH. Now I remember. . .
His hands were quick yet nimble as he continued to caress my neck with kisses up until I awoke with a sensation I had never experienced until that moment. His firm, calloused hand grasped firmly on my soft round flesh, causing a moan to utter off my lips. James continued to fondle even as I felt as though my spirit
We loved with a love. . .The handwriting, if you can imagine it when you read this, is much like Jane Austen's was. Elegant and sophisticated. These words you are about to read comes from the heart of Lucinda Rose Lancaster, a woman you all might know. Maybe. Heed her words and who knows? You may learn a thing or two.We loved with a love. . . in General More Like This
Do you know what it is like to be in love? A love wherein past hurts leads to a future of hope? Where love means something more than just kisses and embraces? I do. Though he was vile, desolate, aye, even a vulture with a claw of iron clad justice, I was his solace and world. From our first night together to our last kiss, he loved me. I remember how I lit up the room and ignited his heart whereas he completed my emptiness. For eternity will I remember him...my beloved James.
When I first met James, my readers, I was young and fragile. My parents protected their children, me the most as I was their youngest. I was born Lucinda Rose Lancaster, but to those we called friends and our family,
Kroshka Moia, Chapter OneChapter OneKroshka Moia, Chapter One in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Mutti's hands are cold, Ansel. Help me warm them up "
An explosion of shouts erupted from outside, sending torrents of cries that murdered the silence that once ruled before. The young Schütze's eyes snapped open and he sluggishly rolled to his side, finding himself back in the tent. At first, his surroundings were nothing more than splotched colors swaying back and forth. He carefully sat up, a hand hovering an inch over his eyes. The words grew louder; one of the voices sounded familiar. Sitting still, he felt around for anything to help him stand. His fingers brushed against the rough wool of his blanket, the biting cold of the ground, and finally the smooth yet icy texture of his rifle barrel. He shivered at the touch; what he wouldn't give to get his gloves back. Firmly placing the butt of the rifle on the ground, he gave a mighty heave to his feet. His movement was too fast for his body's liking and he stumbled backwards and out of the t
Gunners, Chapter FourApril 30, 103 PNGunners, Chapter Four in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"On your knees."
With the rifle barrel digging into my spine, I reluctantly obeyed. I dared not reach for my weapons; a rare time when my gut feeling could get me killed. His voice was young, around my age. He took a step to my right and kicked my foot.
"Take out your weapons."
Slowly, I pulled my revolver out and set it on the ground. Then the knife concealed in my boot. He kicked them from my reach. Then, "Your other weapon."
"That's all I have."
"I wasn't born yesterday, sweetheart. Other weapon."
Sweetheart? "Look, I told you, the knife and revolver are all I have."
He let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright. Here's what we're going to do. See the wall in front of you?"
The butt of his rifle smashed the back of my head so hard I couldn't even cry out as I fell to the cold floor. A faded figure walked over me and bent down. Everything turned black.
"Lynn... That is a ridiculous middle name. Lynn, Lynn... I take it your parents didn't exactly lov
Gunners, Chapter OneApril 11, 103 PNGunners, Chapter One in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
One day, you will find your own Wonderland."
My father often told tales of an epidemic called the 'Red Scare' and how it tore through the land, turning friends into targets, and bringing forth a new terror to the world. Countries that were once allies in the old war now had each other in their cross hairs. Spies had infiltrated the enemy's land, gathering information for their side. My father, with a flash of disappointment in his tone, told us of how the war soon turned to a standstill, and how no lives were lost, until a single press of a button unleashed Lucifer from Hell. In an instant, children who were walking home from school, mothers who were cleaning house and preparing a roast, and men who were puffing cigars while laughing their cares away managed but a confused glance to the white flash. There were those who were dubbed lunatics by their friends who had registered their loved ones to shelters deep in the earth.
To the crazy prophets, the world ended on Octo
Gunners, Chapter SixMay 2, 103 PNGunners, Chapter Six in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I'm not sure what awoke me first: the disgusting humidity in the room, or the horrible pain in my head. My mouth was taped, eyes covered by an itchy cloth. My hands and feet were tightly bound by a thin wire, digging painfully into my skin. My coat and boots were missing along with my gun belt; I could feel dried blood under my nose. I rolled to my side, the tips of my fingers the stone wall, my head rubbing against the lumpy mattress with little hopes of removing the blindfold.
The door opened, bringing in a chilly breeze. Two footfalls, a pause, then one more. I froze. There was a strike of the match, soon followed by the putrid smell of smoke. A chair scraped across the floor and bumped into the bed frame. Smoke was blown in my direction; I wanted to gag.
Fingers slithered up my arm and to my neck, grabbing my dog tags. "Edahsra, Alice L... Well, I'll be damned, you're Nicky's girl." The voice was male, older by at least twenty or so years.
"It's been a while since I s
Gunners, Chapter ThreeApril 29, 103 PNGunners, Chapter Three in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I hated traveling through the wastes at night.
The sound of my motorbike echoed through the eerie silence of the land, my flickering headlight offering little help of showing the path before me. I did my best to stray from the roads; they were a deathtrap for motorists, especially if one was traveling via highway overpass. People have done what they could to repair the roads, but it was mostly a waste of time.
It didn't matter to me; I hated heights. Anything higher than two stories found me huddling in a corner from fear and nausea, and my home in New York was no different. A few months after my father took in a young boy named Jacob, my biological brother, Harper, took he and I up to the roof of our building. My father found me clutching the crumbled chimney near a pile of that morning's breakfast. I can still remember the terrified look on Jacob's face; he thought he was the one responsible.
Jacob came into our family about three years ago, right after I graduated t
Gunners, Chapter TwoApril 27, 103 PNGunners, Chapter Two in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
With my eyes peeled to the cracked tile floors, I grudgingly stepped towards a dim room, catching the rhythmic scratching of pen across paper. My heart fell to the bottom of my feet; the vulture was roosting in his nest, waiting to snap at the simplest sign of life passing his doorway. I stopped at the last second, scowling at the rusted nameplate nailed to the wall. Lawrence Fergus McDougal, Chief of Medicine – scribbled beneath, someone wrote 'King of the Grumps', and I couldn't help but grin at the truthful statement. Other names, such as 'British Bore', 'Stubby', and the classic 'Tommy Redcoat' were splashed over with paint or crossed out, but that did little to discourage the anonymous vandals. Gently, I pulled my duster closer to my body and turned.
“Running like a frightened mouse won't do much good for your shoulder, miss Edahsra.”
I shuddered at the scratchy, droll tone sifting down the hallway and pulling at my ears. Dammit, I was so close..
Gunners, Chapter FiveMay 1, 103 PNGunners, Chapter Five in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I rested on the floor that night, listening to his deliberate snoring drowning my ears. He was curled up on the couch, his back turned to me. I groaned and rolled to my side. Back on the base, I would have no trouble falling asleep; the endless noise of construction, late-night gunfire, and the stray animals had that touch to put me down for a good few hours. Of course, that was on the base, where I knew I'd be safe. I tossed back and forth in annoyance, hands gripping the imaginary pillow. It wasn't the snoring that got to me, it was the silence.
In the wastes, silence meant death. A man could walk through a hail of gunfire and come out virtually unscathed, but would then find himself dead when all he heard was nothing. Even my father had his moments when everything turned quiet. I had no idea how I was able to remain so calm; the nightmare still plagued my mind. Those clicking boots, that voice, his damned smile. I looked to my new acquaintance, a single question bounci
Kroshka Moia, Chapter SixChapter SixKroshka Moia, Chapter Six in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Meine had soon discovered the battle had only lasted a little over an hour; the sun still stood high in the sky, overseeing the wreckage of the fight. It was just past 1700 hours, but the battle itself seemed to stretch into eternity. Near the church, the soldiers carried the countless wounded to buildings that weren't marred by gunfire or shrapnel. To everyone's dismay, the ambulances had yet to arrive as the numbers of wounded rose through the roof. The less fortunate lay in a crooked row along the street, their faces covered either by a helmet or a simple cloth, their dog tags resting upon their chests. Chaplain Ritter, bible in hand, stammered out prayers to the dead, begging to God to forgive their sins. Inside the church, Smoke and Martin were occupied with their own tasks: writing to the families of those who had fallen.
Silent, Meine and Max rummaged through the salvage of the town, tossing crushed bricks into one pile and support beams and broken walls into another
Kroshka Moia, Chapter EightJuly and August rolled past the Kompanie along with the breeze and no sooner did mid-September take their places. The blazing scorn from the sun ceased its attacks on the men save for a couple of days, but ultimately gave in to the fortunate winds. The French countryside remained as breathtaking as ever, immune to the coming seasons.Kroshka Moia, Chapter Eight in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
However, the beauty of the countryside was quickly forgotten. Surprise attacks from the French Resistance rattled the men, whether it was a single gunshot, feigned charges, botched grenades, or even ambushes in the dead of night. The injuries ranged from a mere graze to amputations to severe casualties. A man Meine had known since training, Joseph Pfeiffer, received significant shrapnel to his thigh during an attack in August, tearing the muscles to ribbons and shattering the bone. On the way to the field hospital, the medics were forced to amputate in the vehicle, despite pleads from Joseph to wait. Three days later, Smoke got word that he died fro
Stanislav ManorThe feather quill pressed against the parchment sheet, countless thoughts running through the Frigate Lieutenant's head. In the dimming candlelight, the many scratches of the pen waved faintly through the peaceful dorm.Stanislav Manor in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Mother and Father,
I will be home soon.
~ ~ ~
To a child raised in the farming hills, the Morava Arrow would have been envisioned as a monstrous snake. The roar of the engine shook the domed station as it emerged from a shivering horde of mist. Heads turned, eyes widening as the silver train entered the building, its massive drivers screeching along the rails. Radomir looked up from an article he was given by a paperboy, detailing the events of the latest dogfight over the Ciúin border. Plastered on the page was a photograph of a destroyed Sidhe aircraft, a group of Perunis airmen observing the wreckage. Around him, countless conversations were carried over his head, none of them making the least bit of sense. The paper bit between his teeth, he dr
Dying.Dying.Dying. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
And then there was fire.
Fire bled from him; fell from his eyes, slid from his mouth.
It dripped from his very pores.
The force of the blast threw him easily and drove him into the ground. He felt as though his bones had suddenly become shards of glass for is teemed as though everything had been jolted from its place within him and the razor edges were driven into his skin. He tried to shout, but nothing came out, only closing his eyes and plunged into blackness. Six minutes until irreparable damage.
He was falling, the pull of gravity centered just below his shoulder blades, a slight pull dragging him ever deeper into the bottomless abyss that had opened up beneath him. There seemed to be a sudden heaviness that had placed itself upon his chest; a slight tightness that spread itself across his front originating in the cracks of his deformed sternum. It slowly seeped its fingers into his lungs
Sputnik."Y-You are drunk again, Herr Dreher."Sputnik. in Sketches More Like This
There it was again. This was the third time he’d heard that this week as he sat in his chair stewing in the fire in his belly that threatened to burst forth from his mouth.
He had set himself in his chair, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand as he stared blankly at the TV in front of him. The man on the news was blathering on and on about things he did not care about. The Americans did this, the Russians did that, French having money troubles again, Adenauer fucking up his country and trying to round up straggler Nazis: the usual doom that people liked to complain about.
"I ain’t drunk!" The old priest said as his free hand played with the straps on his prosthetic legs. When he was home he never wore them, although it might have been better to do so because one leg was gone above the knee the other below. He was seventy something years old: while other his age would complain about arthritis in their kne
The Last Time I Saw ParisThe Last Time I Saw ParisThe Last Time I Saw Paris in Short Stories More Like This
The sounds of gunfire and falling shells had started to fade for the evening, but the line of wounded coming in and going out, either patched as best as they could be or dead, seemed almost endless. The doctor was tired. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist so as not to smear blood across his face and tried to recall the last time he had gotten more then a few forced hours of sleep. He had lost his watch a week ago anyway. It was cold in Russia. He did not like sleeping in the cold; for fear he would not awake in the morning.
One invalid out, another coming in. The two stretcher-bearers brought the wounded man suspended between them over to the doctor.
"Friedrichs..." the doctor barked to the head stretcher-bearer, "put him down, hurry."
The doctor stood poised and waiting as he took up the instrument of his orchestra, a battered pair of tiny forceps. His dark eyes wer
VinegarVinegarVinegar in Short Stories More Like This
Suddenly there was a nip and bite of pain at his hand.
He grit his teeth as the blood pounded in his ears and he dropped his blue eyes to his glove. Cut clean through, the worn thin fabric caught on the chicken wire of the trench wall. Dürr had tried to move down the line, as though relocating himself might make the biting cold of the early morning go away. The only good thing about the cold was that the mud did not run like sopping water and had begun to freeze allowing for some solid ground to stand on. Weeks of rain that made the trenches flood and living unbearable, now, thank the Lord, the water was slowly draining away.
Dürr sniffed against the winter and carefully used his other hand to peel back the ragged edge of the glove which was starting to turn red. The open wound cut clean across the palm of his hand. Would this become infected? Had he just condemned himself
Light.Light.Light. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Georg von Falkenrath
I realized many things about myself as I spent those seemingly endless hours in that 2 foot by 2 foot box. The air was stifling in there and my body threatened, at any moment, to spiral down into chaos. I would panic. Despite the feeling of burning bile running up into my throat from pain, hunger, embarrassment, fear and humiliation, I pressed my palms against the temples of my head and held them there in an iron grasp. It felt as though I was trying to squeeze out the throbbing which thundered around my head. It hurt, my emaciated frame clattered together as I shook with cold. My eyes started to sting, the tears swimming up drove themselves into the black and blue bruising.
My teeth chattered together, the fear blossomed further, deep seated within my bosom, that I would never see the light of day again. I wiped at my eyes furiously. They had been tearing up a lot mor
Stranger Than You Dreamt ItStranger Than You Dreamt ItStranger Than You Dreamt It in Short Stories More Like This
I have not had a face for almost five years.
Where there is now a hole used to be a nose and cheek, bones cracked and unrepaired across my forehead. I used to look like a normal man; I was not born this way. I was serving in Russia when this happened. Only a year had gone by since I volunteered when an unpredicted bombardment happened. I was just trying to do my work as a doctor when suddenly the sky was alive with rockets. They had been using the Katyusha's again, though I don't know why. Most of our tanks had moved out only a few hours before. I do believe that was what they were really aiming for and not for any of us. I do not think that they knew that our tent was a hospital and not a command center and if they did: God forgive them that they should not be punished harshly for it. Maybe they were indifferent to whoever was at the chosen posi
Six Feet Deep: Chapter 1Six Feet Deep: Chapter 1 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Six Feet Deep: Chapter 1
"What exactly is going on here?" Lieutenant Alik Laryn asked, raking a hand through messy black hair as he tried in vain to affix it back into place. The dark-wood desk he now sat at had once belonged to a Czech priest, who had long since fled the town as the war had swept through the country. The abandoned rectory have been commandeered by the American army and set up as administration buildings. The slit window with the stained glass behind it let in the early morning light. Laryn had not slept well; his normally hollow, olive-skinned face was looking more sallow this morning.
Sergeant Blake slid the file across the desk to him. "One of them managed to attempt suicide last night."
Up until that point it had been a very slow morning at the hospital for the lieutenant, as slow as one could get for a field hospital. Even though the front had moved far beyond the town at this point, the church area still tended to the wounded soldiers that came this
Medders Thesis: pt 1 - I am the NarratorMedders Thesis: pt 1 - I am the Narrator in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
§ I am the Narrator §
I am a scalpel, once made of iron and shiny silver now drenched in grime from being swallowed by the earth for so long. My blade has long since dulled and chipped in places. I wear a dress of green as I am finally pulled to light after sitting in that blackness with no sense of time. I am breathing air once more, liberated from the pit of suffocating darkness that had encased me. No more am I choking on dirt and mud, no more am I frozen in a coffin of dried, hard, earth around me. When the light seared my gaze, it hurt. When I was pulled up, the heat fell on me like a smothering rug. I had forgotten about it after so long. I had forgotten so much after so long.
First, there was water in the darkness; I had plunged into the hungry gullet of a well as punishment for a deed I did through no fault of my own. Then the well grew deeper and finally ran dry, the mud becoming my tomb as I lost all sense of time. When I
RAN: Life Saving Chapter 1I. Pick UpRAN: Life Saving Chapter 1 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The Munich train station was bustling with people despite the frosty nip that hung in the air. Under the arching rain guard, a new train had just arrived. It threw open its cabin doors, releasing a surge of people from its innards. A swirl of steam hissed from between its tired and heated breaks. The Bavarian winter was not the worst winter in Germany, but it still held the encompassing arms of the freeze and a gentle kiss of snowfall. The snow on the streets had turned black from city grime and bumbling cars kicking up muck. No snow crept up under the overhanging, but the dripping wet slid onto the platform and was dragged about by the soles of people's shoes and luggage.
Two young men were loitering around the station, waiting for something or someone who had not yet arrived.
The taller of the two leaned against one of the station's pillars, one eyebrow cocked in an almost drea
Medders Thesis: pt 2 - Akko, the City on the PlainMedders Thesis: pt 2 - Akko, the City on the Plain in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
§ Akko, the City on the Plains §
Stranger, let me tell you of the Akko that I remember, the Akko of so many years ago that disappeared in my absence.
The city stood upon a great stretch of plains of white and yellow that rolled out in carpets from the city wall. The land I knew was fragile, yet fertile enough to dye the hills green with shrubs and trees when the seasons called for it. The rolling hills and near mountains to the east are plotted with farming lands that bring food to the city. To the west runs a great length of beach with sands of gold and deep ochre.
A great wall encompassed the city limits like a great stone sash. I pray often that if only those walls would have stayed the Franks’ advance all those years ago when they first besieged my home. I was not born when the infidels first came into this city, but I survived the battles that pushed them out and the battle that brought them back. My brother broke his back during the second siege. He broke und
DownfallDownfall in Free Verse More Like This
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
With Blackbirds Following MeThey say that it's the soldiers who spill and see the most blood. I would have to openly disagree. While they're the ones who carry the guns and protect and defend our homeland, did they ever stop to see we're the ones striving to save it? They moan of their friends lost in battles they fought side by side, but they can never understand pains I've known. Emotionless, perhaps I amperhaps I need to be. But insideWith Blackbirds Following Me in Short Stories More Like This
Never shall they know the pain of losing a friend as I do. The pain of knowing you were the only one who had a chance to save him. And you couldn't
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of his voice, the other young medic quickly entering our tent. He wasn't like the other soldiers around here, stiff and serious. Instead, he was carefree and wielded a smile on his face. Though happy to see him, I continue to frown, simply nodding my head to him.
He was a newly transferred boy to the front, and he had taken
Murders at WhitechapelIt was when the papers spoke of a second victim that Lawrence Caldwell decided to get on the case. It had been only about a week since the last attack by the Whitechapel Murderer, and the district papers couldn't stop talking about it. Amongst the graphic details of how Miss Chapman was brutally murdered were more assumptions of who the mysterious killer could be. Perhaps an Irish immigrant? Jew? "Pervert"? All were simply more targets of minorities to feed the imagination of gossip around Whitechapel. At least, that's how Lawrence saw it.Murders at Whitechapel in Short Stories More Like This
Adjusting the brim of his hat, Lawrence tucked the paper under his arm before heading down Wentworth Street. From the alleyways and corners, he could hear hushed whispers of the locals; women of their safety and men of the discovery of the killer so he too could be put to death. Lawrence rounded a corner into the street seller's section of townthe area inhabited mostly by Irish immigrants. His eyes skimmed up and down the vendors, hastily catch
Until I Smile At YouCold. That's all I felt surrounding me on the floor of the camp barracks. A cold so chilling there was a moment I swore I felt nothing at all. This is what dying must be fading into nothing. I closed my eyes, oblivious to the world. I coughed once, the feeling stinging my raw throat as I curled up. Nothing, I thought again, staring into the blackness behind closed eyes. That's all there'll be nothing.Until I Smile At You in Short Stories More Like This
But there was something. Rising up from beside me, I heard a gentle humming, a song that once was familiar. Memories stirred within my head, and upon the blackness that shrouded my vision, light began to swirl. I heard laugher ringing out through the fields and saw her face. Her smiling, happy face. It was before the madness and the violence, before the blood and before the tears. And it was before the stars stitched to not only the fabric, but to our very flesh, marking us forever. If only I could see her smile again, make her smile that was all I n
WeakIt started with the familiar tugging within the chest area. A black cloud began to loom over my body, sucking out the sunshine and making my smile fade slowly. I don't truly have a plausible reason as to why my body suddenly acts in this manner. It's sudden, harsh and unforgiving.Weak in Short Stories More Like This
I feel as if all strength has left my body. Emotionally and physically, I feel weak. More often than once I've succumbed to tears, not really understanding why. I feel that whenever I try to focus on happier memories, they're overshadowed by the darker and sadder memories I've picked up through my life.
This motion never really lasts very long, only a day at least. But when it comes, it's random, and I never expect it. Often I'm telling the people I care about that I'm fine, and I give them a smile, but inside, it's almost as if a crushing emptiness is threatening to overwhelm me.
Is this just ordinary 'blues'? Maybe. I'm no expert in emotional behaviour, but I know I often feel worthless at these points. I j
Candy and I - FadingShe had been feeling it for a while to be perfectly frank. That feeling of unease, of uncertainty. She had tried dismissing it as simple paranoia, but she was trying to fool herself. Something terrible was happening. She just didn't know what.Candy and I - Fading in Short Stories More Like This
Candy heaved a small sigh and ran her fingers through her messy blonde hair, wishing she could do something to shake the feeling of dread and despair which had washed over her. The rush of emotion she was currently feeling baffled her somewhat But why? It baffled her because she was SCARED and she didn't know why.
Slowly, tiredly, Candy lowered her hands to her lap and did a sudden double-take, her amethyst eyes widening in slight shock as she stared at her limbs. Shaking slightly, she raised her hands to her eye-level, and realized with a sudden sickening feeling, that she wasn't actually going insane. Her hands were see-through. She was fading. Forcing herself to stay calm, Candy stared blankly at her fading hands and briefly contemplated
Alvin's Birthday Present"Anything you can do, I can do better!"Alvin's Birthday Present in Short Stories More Like This
Six year old Tim Reville puffed out his chest proudly, ignoring the glare of the blonde girl before him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was tapping her foot, an annoyed twitch in her eye.
"Oh really?" Candy asked, walking over and poking him in the chest with a single finger, her eyes narrowed. Tim let out a noise similar to that of a deflating balloon, and rubbed his chest with a wince, but nodded firmly.
"It's true! I can do everything better than YOU! I'm faster, cooler, stronger and just better than you!"
Candy took a deep calming breath and put her hands on her hips, a small pout making its way onto her face as she stared at her friend slash rival.
"And what makes you say that?" she asked, watching him closely. He seemed surprised by this question, having though it was obvious and shrugged as he answered.
"Because you're a girl!"
Before he knew what was happening, Tim was wrestled into the ground by his female frien
Candy and I - LegacyCleaning the attic was simply one of those chores that was both tiring and invigorating all at once. On one hand, it was a long and exhausting process, pulling out boxes, throwing things away, cleaning The boring dull jobs no-one really enjoys. On a more positive side, if you stored memories in the attic, it was a place of wonderful way to find them again and reminisce.Candy and I - Legacy in Short Stories More Like This
That was Carys's main focus today. To search through and clean her attic, hoping for hold memories to resurface. It would be nice to just remember the old times, no matter what they were. Pulling an old box towards her, she opened it up, only to find old Christmas decorations in there. Shaking her head slightly, Carys glanced up as a small voice caught her attention.
"Mum, what's this?"
Pulling herself to her feet, the thirty-three year old walked over to her six year old daughter and smiled, bending down beside her. Wide blue eyes looked up at her, and the young brunette girl held out an old doll, which Carys took
Yvaine - FriendYvaine had always resigned herself to the fact that she would never be able to speak. The doctors said it was impossible, and she had accepted that fact with a simple nod. She wouldn't miss not speaking, because how could you miss something you never had?Yvaine - Friend in Short Stories More Like This
It was frustrating however, to not be able to fully communicate her desires and needs to her family, and sometimes, she did wish she was able to speak so she could tell tell them what she wanted. But, she got through it with a smile, as she always did.
What hurt Yvaine most of all about being mute, was the way treated her. Just because she couldn't speak, it didn't mean she was deaf too. She wasn't a freak, she wasn't mentally retarded. She was just a thirteen year old without the ability to speak. She wasn't any less intelligent for it. She was smart, she was bright, and disregarding the bullies, she was happy.
Her siblings were protective of her due to this. Mainly Matt and Serena. Serena often made it clear that to pick on Yvaine w
The Greatest Fic Ever Part 2When we last left off, our fair, beautiful and sassy heroine was slowly dying of un-attention.The Greatest Fic Ever Part 2 in Short Stories More Like This
A sociopathic murderer was busy eating his daily brains when a strange and mysterious girl went up to him.
"Soylar, hey Soylar," said she. "It is I, that long ago forgotten childhood friend that also had a troubled life and a dead mother. I also fantasize about blood and eating people and had issues at school and we were married in a past life but some Japanese otaku nerd screwed up the time continuum and now you can't remember-"
"Your brains, I shall eat them," said Soylar most wickedly as he attempted to saw open the top of her head with his middle finger. "Your sue powers will be most delici-oh dear GOD. It tastes like someone put plastic covered glittering shit in my mouth. I've eaten over 50 people and none of them are even vaguely resemble this festering camel vomit. Away with you!"
Soylar then flung her away where she then magically landed in space.
How to Win an ArgumentEveryone gets into arguments at some point in their life. Electronic communication receptacles are no exception. If anything, one is more -likely- to find that it is easier to become embroiled in an online argument than anything else.How to Win an Argument in Reviews & Guides More Like This
1. CAP THAT If there's one sure-fire way to make a point stronger, it's typing in ALL CAPS. Considering that there are many instances when sound can't travel over the net, one must find the next best available way to be heard. This "next best" way is through "shouting," which just happens to be done online through typing in CAPS. Just like screaming, shouting, and general tantrum-throwing in real life, this method is a highly efficient method of making sure that your point gets across and makes you seem ten thousand times more valid and understandable. Additionally, it makes your argument come on more forcefully and shows the opposition you mean "serious fucking shit" with your side of things.
After all, loud noises work with dogs and small
The Greatest Fic EverOne day, the Roarschack was walking randomly down the street when this random stranger jumped out in front of him and said, "Walter, i am a mysterious girl from your past who has now grown up into a beautiful young woman and i am secretly a vigilante and we need to be together because we're both vigilantes and we're both liek rlly messed up and we complete each other in our mutual messed-uppedness."The Greatest Fic Ever in Short Stories More Like This
"Rrrraaaarlllll," said the Roarschack.
Hideously rejected, the mysterious and bootiful young woman then went to hogwhutz.
"Pruffesser Snope," she said, "I am Voldermort's secret daughter that no one knew about and also Harry Potter's dark twin cousin. I can speak parsell tung and potions is my favorite class, we are compatible so won't you love me because I had an abused childhood where Voldemort killed my mom and because I'm technically not a legal adult and long flowing hair and green eyes which is mysteriously like someone else you knew and oh hey this is hogwhutz, a magical place
For the Record: DianaSo she's pretty much my favourite britette out there and she's been through a lot and we all know the stories but what about them in Diana's perspective? We all get a chance to tell our own stories so I'm happy to introduce to every Diana!For the Record: Diana in Profiles More Like This
*Diana walks on with that signature wide smile on her face* *In a one shouldered short and tight dress that's silk and navy blue with big white pearls around her neck and matching navy blue heels with a silk bow* *She giggles and waves at the crowd sitting down on the sofa beside me*
Di: Oh my gosh *blows a kiss to the audience and smiles back at me* haha, hiya
Me: hello to you to, big audience today for you
Di: *nods* though I'm kind of upset you didn't introduce me as Mrs.Carter because seriously I come to these things just to hear that these days *giggles* just lifts my spirits a bit
Me: I apologise Mrs Carter, welcome to the show! So I suppose since you're so eager we can talk about Andy
Di: Really? You're gonna set me off?
Me: Yes, I'
Happy Birthday Shon!Happy Birthday Shon!Happy Birthday Shon! in Letters More Like This
So it's your birthday and originally I was going to do a more spectacular and amazing gift for example singing or just a video or a month long blog dedicated to you, I don't know I had a lot of ideas for your birthday this year but evidently fate has come to play and I am without internet the days leading up to your birthday, so unfortunately you are getting this letter but there is an upside because I express my feelings better in words anyway!
Before I even knew you as it were I literally worshipped your youtube page, I was the biggest fangirl, I admired you, I looked up to you, I tried to live up to what you had made of yourself online and to be honest none of that has changed throughout the years, of course I know you far better now, I know you as a person, I know that you would consider yourself as a mix of Alvin and Theodore for example and you know I adored just staring at clubchipmunk like dreaming of being that awesome but I truly think that if I had staye
Titanic's AnguishGo away. Make them go away.Titanic's Anguish in General Fiction More Like This
I cry but do they listen. Do they feel my pain? Do they know what I know? Have they seen what I see?
They have taken everything from me, my life, my future, my freedom, my happiness. Must they rob from my grave?
What have I done to offend them? I had no choice in my actions. Did I ask for the iceberg to lay in wait in my path? Did I ask to speed into an ice field? Did I ask for so little lifeboats?
I did all I could. I did as I was asked to. I had no say in my actions. The humans choose for me.
I thought they had left me for dead when I sank. I thought they would have forgotten about me.
I was wrong.
They came back for me.
At first they respected me. They came only to learn what they could. They came and took nothing but visual records. They came and left.
The dark hearted ones came. They who followed the scent of money. They whose eyes glinted with greed. They came and took what they could from me. They saw me as nothing but a cash cow. They didn't care for
Goodra Vore - Taking in Mawile"No, no, and NO!!!" a Machoke bellowed, "We DON'T need another reporter for PNF!!! Meowth is the ONLY new reporting Pokemon we will ever need. Now leave, before I toss you out myself!!!"Goodra Vore - Taking in Mawile in Short Stories More Like This
"BUT THIS ISN'T FAIR!!!" a Mawile cried, "PSYDUCK SAID HE WOULD AT LEAST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH ME!!!" The small Pokemon was angrily stomping her foot in protest, The Machoke smirked. "Oh, he did, did he?!" He suddenly grabs the Mawile, holding her firmly, as she struggles to get free. "Listen you!!!" he grunts, "If I let Psyduck interview every last smuck who finds their way here, this building would be destroyed by having them all waiting here at once!!! I'M the real authority, when it comes to helping manage Pokemon News Flash on the Pokemon Channel, so it will be ME who decides who gets hired!!! Now BEAT IT!!!" He purposely uses Seismic Toss to chuck her through a window! She withers in pain, struggling to get up... her eyes burning with determi