Tuesday, February 25, 2014
The Broken Girl and The Clever Boy - Blue
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Tick
Friday, January 17, 2014
TwitterShort Challenge #1
I had gone down to the beach to get a quiet reprieve. Chemo had taken the wind right out of my sails this time. The pounding surf always calmed my frazzled nerves. And this excursion was no different.
I loved the sunlight on my shoulders. I loved the squish of the sand between my toes. The smell of the salt in the air seemed a balm to my soul.
And then chaos.
I didn’t have time to fully register what happened. Before I could blink I was knocked on my ass to the sand. As I sat there dazed, the thought occurred to me that only an anal bleaching session would be able to remove the amount of sand that just got kicked up my shorts.
“Goddammit Trevor. You’re such an asshole!” said Voice.
“Learn how to throw a damn foot ball for once,” replied Trevor.
Things came into focus as two boys came over. Voice said, “I’m so sorry for Trevor plowing into you like that. He needs things like this to remind him the world doesn’t revolve around him.”
“Heeeeeyyyy!” wailed Trevor.
“That’s fine,” I said. I tried to get back to my feet. Voice reached out a hand. “Thanks,” I said as I grabbed it. It was coarse, but the grasp was gentle.
“My name’s Jay,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Jay. I’m Cathy.” I noticed his well-worn shirt read ECONOMIC MIGRATION. “What’s that mean?”
Jay looked down at his shirt. “Oh, haha. This? Nobody knows. It was a garage band I played with a few years back. You wouldn’t be interested in tossing around the football with us for a bit, would you?”
“Maybe next time,” I replied.
His smile made me completely forget about the darkening bruise on my backside and the amount of sand lodged there.
I opened my bag that held my shoes and magically produced a Sharpie. I grabbed the football and wrote my phone number in dark black ink.
“Next time,” he repeated.
I turned and headed up the beach toward home.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
Cavern
Thursday, January 31, 2013
The Basic
You didn't show
Xanadu broken
Why did I believe the
Verse would change
Unending
Tiredness fills my
Soul
Reeling in the
Quagmire of
Pressure and
Obstenance
Never fully believing
My own emotions
Love
Killing me
Justified by
Insane
Hopelessness
Growth impossible
Fear amplified
Empathy lost
Death of a
Creature
Branded by
Apathy
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Chapter Two
It's my birthday today. Nineteenth. Tomorrow I begin my 20th year. It seems as though birthdays always hold such promise. Your own personal New Year's Day celebration. Mother gifted me this diary, and I plan on putting it to good use. Memory is such a cruel thing. Things you care to forget never wander far, yet things you crave to hold on to seem to fade and wilt. Maybe by committing to ink my thoughts, I'll be able to hold on to them until I can share them with you. - Ellie
My wife got me this journal. Something about keeping everything cooped up inside. Feelings blah blah blah. So this is me, wasting time, appeasing her. What a crock. As if writing shit down makes a hill of beans. It won't change anything. I'm still right here, and she's still out there. And she's probably still searching for me. Why? Because she's the dreamer, and I'm the asshole. - Alistair