Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. Nobody knows until they've been in those shoes.
"If he hit me, I'd hit him back!" scoffed one colleague.
"It should never happen twice." said my mum.
I know they mean well. I hope they do, but it's not so easy, is it? I mean, I've read the stats. More women are killed after leaving their abusive partner. I suppose its something to do with regaining power or something. Isn't everything about power. Being the top dog. I didn't want to be another number. A statistic to...
crash
reality shimmers
wave after wave
darkness enfolding
sleep
It felt like the last night on earth, the last day of the world.
The truth of it was simply that it was the last day for the two of them.
She wasn't certain she could really pinpoint the day they ended, nor that she could really work out why they ended. It was as if she'd woken up one morning, looked at him (his back, how long had that been the way they slept, not even touching, two bodies in the same bed, not two souls in the same space) and realised that she didn't love him.
It hadn't...
She'd always come running when I called. At first I only called her when I really needed her, but after a while whether I needed her or not didn't matter; I started to call her just because I could. I didn't realise I was doing it until she called me on it one morning. I'd woken up at 5am and the first thought in my mind had been her, the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her. It hadn't occurred to me that she might still be asleep and that she might not appreciate me calling...
The butterflies danced outside her window bidding her to come and play. Lessons, lessons, lessons, She looked again just as a fairy slipped beneath the rose petals on her windowsill. She looked closer but couldn't be sure. Was that a fairy foot or just some dust. Mum was calling from downstairs. She looked around and then opened the window just big enough to squeeze through.
On the ledge her wings unfurled and she was off. Dancing in the breeze. The hummingbirds joined her and together they flew off to the honeysuckle where there was a party for the king....
They laughed at the little thing as it squirmed
The dark water so close but so far away now in their minds
The way things change the eye flits away reconstructs
Safety is everywhere in this dangerous time, safety is in the struggling eyes of a small thing
They left it to it's toil the diurnal nocturnal pull of it's nature
Clinging to the raft looking at the shore
The sun warm and pure on it's matted fur
The water was clear, so I stared at it, looking at my reflection. I was ugly, there were no two ways about.
She had been right.
I kept staring at myself. The disfiguring scar curved an unappealing path through my cheek. My hair was matted with dirt and dust. I wasn't even handsome in a macho kind of way, like someone who had just emerged from a bout with a bear.
She had been right.
My eyes were red and puffy with tears. My lips were chapped and sore. When I ran my tongue over them, they felt sharp and...
Heather didn't like being out in the rain. She was going to get even with that bastard Gene - how dare he dump her in such a manner, in the middle of nowhere. She eased the strap of her high heel shoe where it was rubbing, and turned to look back up the street. The road glistened black in the wet night, and the streetlights merged into the puddles. She began to walk, planning what she would do. For a start, she had his key, she realised suddenly with a gleeful grin. He wouldn't be able to get into his...
I've been following Soulscum for a while now. I don't know what he wants. I don't know why he's here. All I know is that he's left behind a string of broken storefronts and mass hysteria.
I had to do something about him.
He stopped to look through a window. "Maybe he's scoping the place out" I thought to myself. But he turned his head like he recognized something in there. That's when I realized where we were.
Soulscum was squatting right in front of my friend Tim's antique store. Lucy was inside trying to clean the place up a...
Your blood is the light in the sky and the night is the new blood replacing the old.
That darker blood you receive each day is the sweat of the earth swallowing itself with huge, heavy gulps.
Sure, time is running out, but it always comes running back in.
Time, blood, day, night.
Everything new is old again.
Isn't that the song?
Isn't that a song!
Thick dusk is coming,
whetting the waves
with you,
whetting the waves
with you.