As I wandered through the market, I found many new and mysterious objects and people every time, I found myself drawn to a certain stand. It didn't really stand out, in fact it was kind of hidden, but I continued toward it.
"Oloia, come back here!", my mother shouted, but I ignored her. I would be punished for that, I knew. Yet, I continued toward this stand. As I neared the small shop, I realized that it was quite small, and as I walked inside, I stared at the magnificent treasures there. Oranges? Yes, those were oranges. And Pineapple, and...
The music in her headphones..."if you lift me up, and get me through this night, I know I'll rise tomorrow, and I'll be strong enough to try..." She stared through the mist and clouds wondering where she had gone. What had become of her life, why here, why now? Kaitlyn wanted to run away from life, love, because she really had neither. The Adirondack mountains towered over her, the chill in the North Country air was giving her bare arms a chill. Kait's brother died yesterday, 9/10/01, and today even more people, so many people died. She was glad to...
You can hide me here, in my pretty things. I will not stir to fight the malaise.
However did you want me, strong? To have your cake and eat it, too?
I was just dreaming of the outside world, of a dream outside this dream. Of colors that are vivid and real. Of people you can reach out and touch. Of rain that falls onto your skin. Of dirt that makes you truly dirty.
And you, you were just telling me stories. Stories of the people you saved during your travels. How you shared a space with a teenage mother...
When I see these flowers, and this man standing here (that's me, by the way), and I see all the men with guns walking behind me, I'm supposed to say that the flowers remind me of a lady. I'm supposed to taste the dust in my mouth, remember my comrades who gave their lives, understand the difference between pride and loyalty, duty and identity.
Mostly, I remember not knowing where I stood with any of these things; thinking that this was the process to figuring it out.
We're all figuring it out, aren't we? To know where you stand is...
They crouched to peer beneath the stairs, the grime and dirt on the old hardwood floor unsettling beneath their feet.
"Come on, Benji. Come out." Jorgia slipped her hand into her pocket, grasping a dog treat. She dropped it at her feet in a futile attempt to lure their "lost" puppy out from under the staircase.
Ashley began to pace the hall, scrutinising the mysterious markings etched into the dirty, peeling walls.
"Hurry, Jorgia," she breathed, "We should get out of here soon."
Jorgia inhaled deeply and swiftly slid her small frame underneath the stairs. Engulfed in an atmosphere of...
The attic was stuffy, of course it should be. It is May, and they are preparing to move into a new house.
She is hunched over a box sifting through the items time seems to have forgotten.
She sees kids medals, awards and photos from the ceremonies. She finds trinkets and grade school crafts. Making sure they are in tact, and making sure she wishes to keep the memories, she places the items into the box with care.
The boys have been out of the house for years now. These items are all that pretty stays here. They have their...
Yumi had been drawn back to the beach. Inside her trembling frame her soul screamed in agony, her weakened legs barely held her up. It had been one year and eight months to the hour since hell rose up and sucked away her reason to live. On that frigid silent morning the black putrid ocean came over them and then forever kept coming. The shrieking banshee cry of the tsunami alarm vibrated through her bones as she ran with baby Akiko in her grasp. The impact of the wave smashed her legs and the baby tumbled from her tender grasp....
Time starts... now.
She took a deep breath, and put her head under water. Her robes flowed around her, clinging weightlessly to every crve and bone, floating up around her ankles before settling, like her, at the bottom of the tank.
Beneath the water, everything seemed muted. She could ignore the audience, the leering faces, the peering eyes, the raucus, crude carnival music hummed softly through the water, muted and beautiful, a world within a world. She liked it in here. No pressure, other than the water around her, slowly increasing on her lungs. She began to breathe out, a...
Back in 1943
Everywhere was tyranny
It seems the perfect time to me
To test my backwards time machine
If Hitler dies, what happens then?
To future women, future men?
Perhaps we've come to pick the locks
To history's temp'ral paradox
As I clench the sweet smelling flowers in my hand, I stare into his perfect emerald eyes.
In this moment I remember why I love him so much. Every moment that I am with him, I feel warm, comfortable, free.
The sun smiles at me and the breeze sings a song that calms my racing heart, though I do not know why it is racing. I look down to see his emerald eyes, now staring up at me. I am captured by them, though then I am drawn to something else- his hands. Within them lay a velvet navy box....