The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace – November will begin. The world outside my window will be shades of red and gold. Snow, a few days later, gracing the last few leaves on the branches. My mind will wander to that one autumn, the last time I ever saw that face. The muscular arms without tattoos; brown hair, blue eyes. It was my birthday. The autumn before that I spent the night at his downtown apartment. Same brown hair and blue eyes, tattoo-less arms. Genuine smile and honest words. This autumn will not be like...
I wasn't sure when I woke up what to do with my day. I mean, I like to be as productive as the next guy, but it was Freeform Friday. i didn't even really know what that meant, but I had it marked on my calendar.
So I decided my best move would be to go back to sleep. When I woke up at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I realized that time was my villain. I'd slept away the entire day.
So now what? It's still light out, so I could work on some flash fiction.
I do not...
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.
He stares into her bloodshot eyes, her glaring furious and terrified back.
She has not slept in over 24 hours and it is by sheer will-power that she manages to remain erect and alert. He must not win.
It must be over soon, she dreams, hallucinates, cries to heaven and God and all her nightmarish waking hells.
Freshman Biology.
First it was the night sweats. Then the spontaneous attacks of anxiety. Her boyfriend left after the sleep talking began, screaming about failing and nonsense and the like.
A test? No, more than a test. This was it.
Her delusions extended...
to feel the moss of the forest floor - this was her favorite. she would bend down periodically, just to caress the soft verdant covering. when she came upon a cluster of burgeoning ferns, she reached and ran them through her fingers like she would strands of a lover's hair. she loved the forest quite as much, and found spending time in it much more peaceful than time passed with any lover she'd ever known. the sun-dappled ground. the falling leaves led in a gentle dance by the breezes. the sight of it all renewed her spirit, in the way...
He sprinted through the line of trees that marked the end of the forest, his sanctuary. He had known something was terribly wrong. His hometown, a small village with just over thirty people in residence, was burning. He had seen the smoke rising into the sky when he woke and ran toward it immediately, praying that she was okay. He hated that he had to leave Jade alone, unprotected, with Lord Westley and his army raging across Torrin, but he dared not stay near people during the full moon. Aidan slowed as he reached the outskirts of the little town....
I looked up at the cathedral door and I thought this is what it means, this is how it all culminates, in this big round arch towering above my head. It was like a mouth, opening wide to swallow me up and draw me down inside, to consume and digest me. Just like the church, I thought. This is what it does. Consumes me.
After I'd breached the threshold, the sounds of the war outside hushed and all I heard was the soft murmur of the others, deeper inside, the soft crying of lost and destroyed. Here's where we come,...
The general stood in the grand ballroom, waiting for everyone to clear out. Yes, the guests had a great time at the victory party; the rebels had been routed, and victory for his king had been ensured. But no one knew the price better than him. As the upper class cheered him, shook his hand, and touted him as the grandest of the grand, he mourned for those on the side of so-called evil. He knew many of them, if not personally, then through family. He hadn't grown up in this environment, but in that of the rebellion. Sure, his...
Whoever said a picture was worth a thousand words had never met Frank.
The man had never met a camera he didn't like, a paintbrush he couldn't weild with the skill of an accomplished demolition man. He didn't just fail to capture his subjects, he mutilated them, butchered their faces on canvas or in gelatin print to the point that the destruction itself was an art form.
Shadows cast a sinister light on the angelic face of his little girl. Brush strokes created abhorrent textures in the golden halo of his wife's hair.
Artists were said to put themselves into...
Four minutes away from the burn point, one of the telltales switched from green to red. Tears streamed from my eyes, flowing back fast into my ears. The compression collar held my head in an unshakable grip. I flicked from gauge to gauge, moving only my eyes.
We were pulling seven Gs on the spinning turn, squeezing as much boost velocity as possible from the flyby. Apparently, the strain had been too much for the secondary backup fuel pump. The main primary pump and its backup were still reading green, and the main secondary was still green as well. The...