Other stories for this prompt

Face down on the cold floor of the cathedral, Brother Fidelis whispered his prayers. Though his lips brushed the dust and filth of the stones, his eyes were angled forward, watching the door. Though he lay in front of the altar, he faced away from it.

The flat light of dawn was pushing through the open spaces where the stained glass had been, the thin, watery edge of light creeping slowly across the burned and broken pews. There were no noises yet. The day was not far enough advanced to bring them home. When the clear light rose above the...

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Light.

Fuck light, right? Right.

Light just shows what I don't want to share, it takes away my CHOICE. Isn't that abusive or some such touchy-feely bullshit?

"Teacher? Light is taking away my choice!"

Yeah well, "teacher" would just tell me to STFU so...

Thing is...think is I, well, I crave it, yk? I crave it. I crave the light like I crave sugar or coffee (not caffeine - there's a difference).

Damn thing. Always seems to fling a little clarity at exactly what I've hidden so carefully away. I take care with my secrets hide them good. Keep them...

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Light as a feather.
Light on the eyes.
Light flashing into tear streaming eyes.
Light in my arms,
My long-lost love.
Light as the clouds
soaring above.

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Light shone through the gap in the thick black curtains. I could see people sitting round the table in candlelight holding hands. I knew what they would be thinking, hoping, that the spirits would speak to the woman sitting at the head of the long table. I could easily imagine their desperation, hope, excitement.

Cassandra had been an actress before she took on this role, this deceit which gave her more money and adultation than ever before. These gullible grieving people wrote out checks without ever hearing a message, they just wanted to know someone cared, listened to their hesitant...

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She leaned over, sideways from her stool, all tits and lips and curly hair falling in his direction.

"Got a light," she asked, sticking a cigarette in the corner of her painted mouth.

He set his beer down, just foam left and dug into his right pocket. Pulled out a lighter and slid it across the plywood painted like mahogany bar. She looked at the lighter, and moved her lips into a pout. Leaned in even closer and said "A gentleman would light it for me."

"You're in the wrong place if you're looking for gentlemen," he grunted, looking straight...

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Light. It was painful to look at; my hangover was tremendous. My hair was matted to the side of my face, and my pillowcase had collected all of the eyeliner I had on from the night before.

It was December 4th. I was 18. I had no idea how I got back into my bed from the previous night. I had lost my keys. I was spitting out blood. I was supposed to go to Toronto on a shopping trip that day.

I went. I felt dead. I caught pneumonia from being outside in December with hardly any clothes on....

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Light. Warmth. Heat. Fire. The smell of autumn tickled her nose. Earthy and soul reaching. Leaves swirled and the moon glowed overhead. The air carried a chill and as they discarded their clothes they drew closer to the crackling fire. Barefoot, their feet danced on fallen leaves. They held hands and circled to the right for seven skips then changed direction and danced to the left for twelve beats, then right again and left. Their chanting grew louder and they surged foreward, caught up in the moment, excitement and wonder overtaking them. One didn't join the circle but stayed apart,...

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Light.

It had been a while since I've seen it. Not the kind of light that you switch on or off when you walk into a room, but the light that switches on when you hit the bottom. The light that you were missing while you were walking blindly around that led you to fall.
I know many times before I could have just switch it on, but I'm stubborn. I couldn't let go of my pride and admit I could not see and that I was wrong.

Arrogant.

But the Lord is patient. He knows me very well, heck,...

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Dishes. Toaster. Coffee. Napkins.

Her breakfast routine was always the same. She performs it today as she did on so many days before, and as she would on every day for the rest of her years.

She brushes the tablecloth clean, while she waits for the coffee. She quietly assembles everything: sugar, milk, scones, jam. She does not speak.

She painstakingly sets two places, attentive to every detail. Her cup of coffee would receive two spoonfuls of sugar. The far cup would receive three. Always three.

The toaster signals that breakfast is ready. She pours the coffee, lays out the...

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"Light. I feel light"

"I should think so, you lost about half of you."

I struggled to open my eyes, afraid to see what had happened. The last thing I remembered before the darkness was the light, the bright light that had surrounded and suffused me, that had seemed to consume me. A hand waved in front of my face, and at first I was certain it wasn't mine, couldn't be mine. I had never been that skeletal, I had always been a rather large man.

"Easy there, you just did something stupid or amazing, and you're rather week. We...

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About the prompt

Originally displayed on:
October 20, 2010

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