then the cold
A wet cold that moves through you that clings to your insides
A cold that whispers soft and true
_You will never be warm
Smile and huddle and see that here too in this fog, this unrelenting mist that covers everything
Here too is warmth, here too is a God
I slowly lifted my head, spat the straw out of my mouth and wondered who the hell had encased my skull in lead.
What a party!
The details were a little vague. I knew Big Dave was there and I had a faint recollection of him laying in the bath fast asleep and covered in lipstick. I laughed quietly so as not to hurt my head.
'Heavy night mate' came a voice from behind?
I responded with a grunt, the best I could manage with a mouth like a sandpit.I turned very slowly and my eyes finally began to focus....
The ghosts of her past continued to haunt her.
The parents she'd disappointed, the boy she'd left behind, even the teacher who had taken her under her wing in the hopes of helping her realize her full potential. She saw them all before her as clearly as the last time she'd seen them. Their frowns, knitted brows, and downcast eyes. She hated those expressions, the disillusionment of their ideals written across them like ink on paper.
How could any of them have known her true potential? And if they had, would they have been heartened or horrified? Knowing ignorance was...
The city was empty and so was she. There was an echo in the quiet streets and an echo in her ear. She had heard this sound before--this sound of nothingness--and it reminded her of something. That vacancy. It made her think of her marriage. That was the sound of her marriage, that emptiness. She felt comfortable in that sound. Above her a streetlight snapped on with an almost audible sound. She could hear the click or maybe just imagine it. The electricity lines opening, sending current to that one lamppost so that it could shine with its weak light....
The lead ninja laughs. "You are a fool, Senzi," he says through his mask. "Never make a boast that you cannot back up with action!"
They have me surrounded, five on each side, and one nimbly crouching on the tracks behind me, ready to leap away once the train came too close. I had no such route to safety; the points of their katanas promised a quick death should I stray from the rails.
All I have is my own katana, and my pride.
The ninjas continue to mock and jeer. I will be dead in seconds, they think. I...
He had always loved the smell of lavender.
It grew in his garden in flourishes; soft green stalks blooming and sprouting purple flowers, primed to be picked for the flower sale that next spring.
He loved flowers, and he hated them. The flowers were what had taken her away from him; entrancing her into his garden as she cooed softly to them, the buds responding by peaking through a coat of leaves. The garden loved her, when she stepped into the backyard the grass would thicken and the bees would settle into her long hair. He had always told her...
On the corner of Drake Street, I waited. I was waiting for a change, for something better, for coincidence to happen upon me. And I felt this would happen there, on the corner of Drake Street.
This was like the corner's corner, with multiple slabs of the ornate bank building merging with one another. With so much coinciding, I felt there must be a high level of coincidence in this spot. And would coincidence lead me to the mysterious woman I so desperately wanted to run into, merge with? Coincide?
It helped her features were angular, from her thin arms...
They were listening.
He knew, and he didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing would matter, after all, after this.
He kept moving forward. Sometimes it felt inevitable. Sometimes it felt like it wasn't his feet propelling him, but something else, a force of nature, a gravity holding his life in balance. He kept going. It didn't matter what kept him going, after all. Nothing would matter after this.
They were watching.
He could feel their eyes even as he moved, boring giant holes into his skin, mining his body for- for what, he didn't know. Their eyes had been a...
I hid behind the low, green trees. Gunshots scream as the team squatted behind the sandstone houses. 'RUN!' The chief yelled. I turn and sprint, confused. Then I hear it. We won. The sound of the biggest bomb i've ever heard beamed. My body went cold. The ground shattered underneath my toes. I see red from behind the houses. We won. Jumping in the back of the truck, hearing water and crashing objects. The feeling missing something appears. We counted the soldiers. 3 missing. We lost.
Lost, without a hand to hold. That sounds about right. I never thought about it that way, though. To me it's more.. lost, without a sight to see? I don't usually think of people as guiding me. Especially in terms of being lost. Usually, it's my surroundings. This can be taken at face value - if I were lost somewhere in a city, I would be looking for landmarks to guide me. It has a double meaning though. If I feel lost, as in lost without a hand to hold, that means lost in life. To me. I suppose lost...