I shall wait.
I shall wait for the timer to go through it's course.
Wait for the little seconds to pass me by.
Produce nothing of content.
Produce nothing of consequence.
Just words strung together in a jumbled sort of way.
Words become random assortments of letters.
Meaning is lost in the rush to get them out.
It's killing me.
Realizing that six minutes is such a vast distance of time.
And yet my brain cannot seem to function adequately.
I like to sip my stories like brandy.
I like to savor my poems, swish their contents around my mouth...
My hand disappeared a week ago. I was rolling out a sheet of cookie dough for the kids. They come home around three and I like to have something warm baking for them. It makes me feel more useful and it's good that kids end their day with something sweet.
I was rolling the dough. Chocolate chip, I think it was. And my left hand just wasn't there anymore. The space where it was before was empty now. I didn't scream or cry. I'd gotten used to missing things. I figured this would be the same.
I had another hand...
Shots were fired all around town. Poor innocent lives we're taken in a matter of seconds. They were taking over... everything. I had no idea if time permitted our family to move away before we lost our lives. Every night was a nightmare to hear about family friends getting captured and killed. My father tried his best to hide my sisters and I behind the dresser when we heard the soldiers coming closer. Behind the dresser was a hole in the cement wall which was big enough to fit us 3 kids. My mother looked at us everyday as if...
This dream was better than waking. In it, his father took him fishing at Lake Oconee. They spent hours in their boat, rods in hand as they stirred the water in search of large-mouth bass. In the dream, his mother waited on shore, watching them with a fond smile as she prepared to cook dinner.
This dream was better than waking. For, in waking he realized that his father was still dead. He had been dead for six month, ever since an IED took his arm, half a lung, and his life. Now, the young man drifted through the days...
It was just a test. Just to see what it was like, or what he was like. With trepidation he inched his way forward. There he was finally. Sitting on the edge of the cliff. Life had been rough lately, or rather it had been rough to live his life of boredom. The doldrums. He wanted to see what he was made of. Sitting there on the edge of the cliff he thought he might be able to make some meaning of life. He was not planning on jumping. Life was lame, but not that lame. He just figured that...
Spinning.
The tiny clockwork bird danced (for want of a better term) in a circle, twirling, singing out its jaunty song.
She sat, watching it sing out its tune, listening to the unique tinny sound of the music box - there was something about that music, that paticular brand, which brought her back to childhood. As a child she had watched the bird, watched it in her mother's palm.
Her mother had, briefly, convinced her that this was a real bird, that this was what happened to them when they were caught, tamed. That you could teach them these songs,...
I was going to tell her the truth...honesty is always the best policy...right? But then I wasn't ready just yet. What would she think? How would she react? Would anything ever be the same?
"No. I can't tell her." I muttered quietly to myself. I hunched over another inch on my bar stool. I was alone although surrounded by patrons at the hotel called The Silent Sleeper's pub. The TV roared football overhead. I could hardley notice anything else in the room but the grain of the wood on the wooden bar counter in front of me, as I grew...
The streets were empty. Suzy was surprised for this had never happened before. What had happened.
Not only the streets,not only the parks, but the houses, shops, and schools were empty. The city was empty. The world was empty.
Suzy was confused, this was a bustling city of many. Where could the many go?
She checked all the possible nooks and crannies but no one was to be found.
Then Suzy realized something. She could still hear sounds. But what was going on? Why coluldnt she see and only hear? Was this the course of the blast?
Also, why did...
The cross section of broken ice and grid perplexed the intrigued scientists.It seemed impossible that what the local had said was true yet fortunately they had listed and laid the glass and steel grid below their feet anyway. To a casual observer this planet seemed to be surfaced by solid ice but here it was, ineffable proof that there was someting beneath the ice, hollow chasms, ranging from a few to unknown depths, It seemed imposible but there it was places in the ice were hollow. and these great chasms had to house some seecret for there was an erie...
The year was 1986. She was five and happy. But she did not want to be six. There was something about six that scared her, put her on edge, made her think of grown up things like losing teeth and moving up to the next class with the mean teacher who didn’t allow her pupils to laugh during lessons.
So she came up with a plan to hide. She took her favourite toys (she was five, after all) and a little food and a carton of juice and crawled into the loft where no one ever went. There was nothing...