Half a life lived
within four walls
the once unthinkable
now familiar
with endless routine
a strange comfort
a life reset every day to run
the same sweep of hours
One small act
stealing from my future
thinking to be happy
now...then
realizing too late
the mistake
giving hostages
to my good behavior
Moments of quiet
hours of noise
time in the yard
never solitary
taking comfort
in the dark
giving in
the dark
Twenty years
one more small act
now here I am
standing
outside those walls
a life lived as half a whole
now to be lived
an...
I hated the wallpaper on my phone. For some reason it just appeared overnight even though no trace was found in the files or folders. Nothing I tried would delete the darn thing. Where had it come from and why?
Josie, an amateur feng shui expert made several suggestions but I didn't believe that kind of rubbish. Strangely enough my phone went wrong, you know where all you get is that SOS Emergency screen but you can't access your numbers or do anything else with it. Yet every couple of seconds, the fish appeared again. It was doing my head...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. He just stands there in diffused light - brooding and making no noise.
Oddly enough, he makes no attempt at escaping. Perhaps its because I stapled him to the dresser drawer as he had refused to have his picture taken.
He looks so much better in person anyway...
Memory...
I forgot her face. How black were her eyes?
Was her nose long? Was her hair black?
No, I can't remember, I only remember that she was there, in my life.
A random memory hit like a lightning.
I have her snap in my laptop, or in was it in my personal file in flickr?
I try, with possible passwords...Wow ! After years, did I regain my memory? I wonder.
I open the personal photos in the flickr file.
I find her name there and eagerly click it and this image comes!
Memory lost again...I lose!
I couldn't sleep with her next to me. Her body was cold, hard like marble, but also soft -- like frozen meat. That's all she was now: meat. The light was gone, and I could not sleep curled up next to my dead sister.
I needed to sleep. It would be at least another day before we made it to the border, maybe even two before we hit the safe house. Sonia would start to stink by then. And I would lose my mind if I didn't sleep.
Still, her body next to mine reminded me that it was only...
She lay on the water, trying hard to keep her lungs inflated. She started to sink, keeping her nose and mouth above water. As for the rest of her, it was completely surrounded by water. her light linen dress was soaked. She kept her arms behind her, just in case she hit the bottom of the lake. as water consumed her nose and mouth, all she saw, all she thought, all she felt, was the end. She was dying anyway. Why not speed it up a bit?
he forgot his jacket.
it hangs on the line, like a ghost.
(like the ghost of last night)
i can see it outside my kitchen window
as i wash out our wine glasses.
it's a plaid puff of smoke.
(reds and blacks and whites
the colors of a genie's lamp)
he left for illinois or indiana
or maybe idaho, and he won't be back,
(or so he says)
but the mornings are chilling
and i might wear it on a walk
with our dog.
Hero at Midnight
No one could remember who among them gave him the name Rooster; probably someone long gone by this point. A seventy percent casualty rate will leave one gaping hole in the communal memory. Everyone could remember why: yodeling and ukelele music in the pre-dawn hours was inexcusable by any measure. It had started after the battle for Hill 487. Most of Rooster's squad had been blown into pieces too small to put back together. Hence the coping mechanism. However, after two weeks of this crap, enough was enough, and Private Morlane drew the short stick: shut him...
Cold feet. She wore pink shoes under her white gown to match the theme. Pink. Well, Blush and Bashful just like Steel Magnolias - if you asked her, she wouldn't say Pink.
Cold feet. A pink winter wedding was all she wanted; Blush and Bashful were the colors; THE colors she had to have. Muffs on the bridesmaids' hands, all in the light-colored dresses. And roses. Lots and lots and tons and tons of roses. All in pink and white.
Cold feet. She spent the last 7 years with Austin, and this winter wedding was all she ever wanted. But...
She held the letter, tears flowing down her face. Somehow she'd known it would always come to this. That no matter how hard she tried to steer him in the right direction, he was bound and determined to go his own way, like a shopping cart with a busted wheel.
The letter was short and to the point, mostly complaining about the food. Thankfully, he wasn't hurt, though he was thrown into solitary once for fighting.
As she re-read the letter, she sobbed, for she too was confined in a prison not of her choosing.