While Bach and Bethoven echoed in my ears, I slowly, stared at the monarch butterflies soaring in the fresh, thin air that surrounded me. I bit my lip, and then grabbed at them, but an unsuccessful attempt. I laughed and laughed. I doubled over, when I saw a man in a kyak capsize, and fall deep into the depths of the water. It felt calm and natural, sitting here, looking at the trees, the water and the sunset. A white butterfly, out lined with black-blue colors, flew in, beautifully flapping it's wings, and landed on my shoulder. I glanced at...
She flipped the switch as she came through the door, but nothing happened.
"Damn" she sighed and set down the grocery bags. Walking carefully through the room she tried the lamp by the couch, still nothing. "ugh" She was really getting a little scared now. She continued into the kitchen, trying all the switches there was, but no light came on. She was headed for the back door and the flash light that was kept there when suddenly all the lights in the house went on.
"Surprise!" She screamed and laughed and cried at the same time.
"oh, God, you...
Kent had hardly taken a full breath when he burst out again into another rant. Another renegade of answers that had no match for questions. He was surely speaking Greek. Kelsey, However was speaking Russian. And there was a glass Wall between them. Kelsey knew no Greek, Kent knew no Russian. They separate to attempt to salvage the relationship that always had been. Neither was sure when the Communication Break down had occurred. Both knew it was absurd. That's When Kelsey Hired a translator, and put an end to the bloodshed.
Jane was only footsteps away from the door. She was within earshot of the rest of her existence. She took 3 cleansing breaths, as she had in yoga, time after time after time. But this time, this time would be the clincher. She was coming in and out of consciousness now as she heard the voice. The Voice of her alter ego. Her Fear.She called her Safura after a Western Bad guy she use to see on Kung Fu. Safura was calling her to come back.Come back to Fear, Come back to pain, come back to the land without compassion....
like a breeze?
this prompt sucks, she said as she typed away. thoughts aflutter even while she cursed whoever suggested it.
wasting time. time. like a breeze. sucksucksuck
sucking me out of existence, whooshing me past all opportunities. the wind too strong to lift my arm to grab the hand of the One thing that might save me from wasting more.
and yet, i experience. time flying by, whirlwind, and little i. left with the experience. like a breath. the wind.. swirled into the lung. exhaled, expelled, exploded back out.
all connected.
does wind have any way of Not be...
Not really that pretty
But lovely
Strong
flowing
She sat on the beach watching the last sunset
We were tense and sad but the sun did not care
When I remember will I think of the beautiful sun?
The beautiful you?
Not really that pretty
Striking, alive worthy of the perfect sunset
And so much more
Four men on the port were looking for a penny stuck in the sails. It was the 4th Annual Whale Hunting Organization of America's Penny Party. Hidden somewhere on the great masted ship was a penny and there was a great amount of backslapping and thumbs-upping to whoever found it. It was generally a nice evening, plenty of deep flavored drinks flowing. Gave everyone something to think of fondly, and drunken stories to recount through the long winter months ashore before the ships went out again toward Greenland, toward the Horn. The first year, the penny (different penny) was pinned...
With a roar of displaced air and grinding gears, the blast shields protecting the gun emplacements retracted, and the defensive batteries opened fire. A river of hot lead and explosive ordnance spewed forth at the oncoming creature.
It barely stumbled. What didn't explode harmlessly against its armored carapace whistled by as its eldritch powers deflected the bulk of the barrages.
Attack helicoptors and missile-laden jets zoomed by, but they were mere gnats to the attacker. It lumbered ever closer to the fortress.
General Davis grimaced as a swipe of its claws downed an entire Blackhawk squadron. It wouldn't be long...
He searched through the records, long dusky fingers flipping rapidly through file after file in the Archives. He kept going, past James, past Jenkins, past....there it was!
Private Justice Jernigan, 61st Georgia Infantry, Co. A. His hands fairly trembled as he pulled out the pension record, gazed at it, read it voraciously. There it was. Private Justice Jernigan, listed as "man servant" for William Jernigan. It was also noted that he was a confirmed soldier, having fought at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville before being crippled by a wound in his right knee. That confirmed the stories handed down by his parents...
The President, nefarious super-villain, sneered at Immobilus, Triumph City's most paralyzed superhero, and swung the axe over his head, ready to bury the hatchet, so to speak, deep into the chest cavity of Dred-X, Jamaican superhero and reggae star. Immobilus focused, building up a ball of psychic energy he hoped would be big enough to knock The President.
Just as the head of the axe began to fall, Immobilus fired, the ball of energy glancing off of The President's arm, forcing the axe-head to arc downward and plant itself deep in The President's leg. He let out a blood-curdling scream,...