Words like knives, thrown back and forth across the room, like a death-defying circus act.
Husband and wife tossing sharp insults, from the couch to the kitchen doorway. Neither landing anything deep, glancing wounds, already scraping scarred tissue.
Neither really feels anything for the other anymore. But the dance, the battle, the contest keeps them together. Light reflects of the blades as they flip and fly.
Thud into walls. Plink against the floors. Bounce of their scaly armour of experience, disdain and dull hate. It aches in their bellies. They think it might offer some release, against the mounting pressure....
The lamp wouldn't turn on.
Strange, she thought, I just changed the bulb yesterday.
Feeling her way through the dark living room, Camille passed into the dining area and saw the stairs leading to the second floor were lit with tiny tealights. Following them up, she called out, "John?" No answer. A little louder, "John, are you home?." At the top of the landing, more candles lit a path from the stairs and into the hallway. Camille started down the hall but paused when she passed the closed bathroom door. Thinking John might be inside the bomb shelter-like walls, she...
I was not at ease without the lights. I definitely felt an insect of some sort, crawling along my chest... Perhaps it was a spider? Wait, is a spider an insect? Well, it can't be a mammal, that's for sure.
The lights. I felt along the side of the wall, hoping to catch the lamp unplugged; but no, it was plugged in and my heart sank a bit. I didn't want to change the bulb. But what if it wasn't the bulb? What if it was an electrical outage?
What if this was the return of the dark ages, where...
It was a pleasure to burn.
Holding the papers over the flame and watching as the flames spread over each one. Swallowing the words and memories as it went. The demons danced in the flames until there was nothing more for them to devour. Until the fire had taken every last word. Every last sentence and turned them into nothing more than a pile of ash on the ground.
Each piece of paper a different memory. A different time, another thing that needed to be burnt away. Each strike of the match burst into a flash of bright light. Each...
The sun set. My boat had stopped drifting. The Delaware River between New Jersey and Pennsylvania was calm. The rain stopped, the crickets chirped, happy with the still summer air. My bathingsuit was finally dry. The only problem with that river is not having shelter on either side from a rainstorm. I watched the residents of the river banks put umbrellas over their heads while grilling. Some took their dogs and children inside. The teenagers laughed, and had mud fights. The rain stopped, the grillers closed their umbrellas, the dogs came out to play, and the teenagers stuck their feet...
A small flower
Just a seed
planted in the dark
you were fed, to grow, to blossom.
In the dark you grew,
Spreading your leaves out so far,
Reaching for the light,
Almost touching it,
You found it,
But it was too soon
You wilted
Curling back into the dark.
Your thorns, so sharp,
Gripping with all their strength,
Holding tightly,
Waiting for life.
Back into the dark you went,
into the ground,
Forever in the earth,
Never to grow.
Starvation.
He'd heard the word before, used it - but he hadn't known what it meant. He knew that now. He had no idea of what it really meant, not until now, not until this moment (but he knew it would continue to get worse until he could eat, of course it would, that gnawing inside would only get worse)
His vision was failing, he was dizzy - he needed something, needed to find something to eat, or he would -
He knew it with a painful clarity. He would die.
Again.
It had been bad enough the first time...
The sights were beautiful, made even more wonderful by the pair of strong, protective arms wrapping around me as we sat looking ever the lake. The night air was cool on my skin and so very refreshing. I allowed myself to melt in his arms as his breath kept a steady rhythm adding to the song of the summer evening. The soft chirping of birds, the gentle whipsering breeze dancing through the trees and playing with my hair, the quiet clapping of the water in front of us - all of this combined in the most magical way to create...
The young man ran toward the park building, surrounded by trees, bushes, and several high-rises that glowered down like overbearing siblings eyeing their sibling's latest suitor. The boy was soaking wet, his heart beat furiously in his chest, and his eyes were wide with terror. He knew they were still behind him. They'd already came after his mother, forcing him to leave her far behind if he wanted to escape with his life.
The boy's feet slapped against the ground as he approached the glass door. Yanking it open, eh rushed into a cool white-walled lobby where a handful of...
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