62words

It’s interesting, this feeling. Lying here quietly, waiting. Breathing when I can, listening to my...

vivalawendigo — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 12:00:06 -0400

It’s interesting, this feeling. Lying here quietly, waiting. Breathing when I can, listening to my heart slow in my ears. Should it be this loud? It is slowing. Should it hurt? Is it going too? No, no. Well, I do know this position I am in is uncomfortable…. Who stabs a man from behind? I mean really, so cowardly, so cruel, so

Watching him on stage, from my spot in the sweaty and gyrating crowd, I was mesmerized. As he wailed...

the-sundancekid — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 12:00:05 -0400

Watching him on stage, from my spot in the sweaty and gyrating crowd, I was mesmerized. As he wailed into the microphone, he jumped and rocked, shook his dyed and feathered hair, raised his middle finger to his fans and grinned. Even as he lowered the mic and took a long drag from the cigarette he held, he was beautiful.

All your breath is in his eyes. They’re blazing with life and energy and love, too much for one...

lanternpetals — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 12:05:06 -0400

All your breath is in his eyes. They’re blazing with life and energy and love, too much for one person; all kinds of blue and green that you’ve never seen. You want to bottle it, paint with it. Usually hidden, a sublime vision preceding humanity, it feels such a privilege.

Even behind glass walls, part of it might still dwell within you.

The Sailor Jerry’s Rum sitting bleakly in the bottom of my polystyrene cup, diluted only by a...

acrylically-afternooned — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 12:05:05 -0400

The Sailor Jerry’s Rum sitting bleakly in the bottom of my polystyrene cup, diluted only by a dashing of ginger ale and the backbite of tonight’s antics.

Meanwhile, a mediocre jazz band played to those who listened, and again, to those who didn’t.

A festival’s answer to a question that nobody asked.

‘Kendal Calling’, a festival with so much to answer for.

“Dude, stop talking about her while we’re walking right behind her. She could be American. “Relax,...

benjaminbuttoninreverse — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 12:00:06 -0400

“Dude, stop talking about her while we’re walking right behind her. She could be American.

“Relax, that chick’s definitely French. She’s not wearing makeup, and look at that little long, flowery dress. Parisiens are all style, no sex appeal”.

The girl unconsciously stuffed the map of Paris further into her purse, stifling a sigh. “Well, at least I’m fitting in,” she thought.

Before hands had met, eyes had danced a thousand times. Words filled the air between with liquid...

thestraightestmanonearth — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 12:13:06 -0400

Before hands had met, eyes had danced a thousand times. Words filled the air between with liquid lust as they dove with grace from lips. Hands quivered in the Waltz, legs locked in the Foxtrot, skin ablaze in the Rhumba. With each beat, hearts came closer, neither pulse remained unique. I knew then we’d dance again the day our lives would blend.

In an alternative universe I would hate you, loathe you. You say I couldn’t be sure that would...

infidelityisacrime — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 12:10:05 -0400

In an alternative universe I would hate you, loathe you. You say I couldn’t be sure that would happen; no one knows what might’ve been, or what could be. I say if it happens, I would make sure, even teach myself if I have to. But we are living in this reality where I love you more than anything, it scares me.

She was the most beautiful girl the boy had ever laid eyes on. When Leonardo finished the Mona Lisa...

augustfire — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 12:10:06 -0400

She was the most beautiful girl the boy had ever laid eyes on. When Leonardo finished the Mona Lisa he thought her heavenliness had been captured. This girl, however, was so utterly ravishing that her beauty could never be re-imagined. He mustered up the courage to say hello but the whisper of his voice made her shatter into a million little pieces.

There I was. Sitting in a prison cell for a crime I couldn’t remember. The night had been one crazy...

augustfire — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 12:28:06 -0400

There I was. Sitting in a prison cell for a crime I couldn’t remember. The night had been one crazy blur. I was so scared, all the books and movies and plays had told me that I should be scared. There were other people with me. Together, we were united by our fear. This fear led to empathy, the empathy to kindness.

We should have known better, the least thing that you should expect from others is to understand ...

fanaisme — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 12:20:06 -0400

We should have known better, the least thing that you should expect from others is to understand the grievances and pains that are mounting inside you. Because for having a person to fully grasp the meaning is to actually going through it. Do you want to go through the sufferings? Nobody in a right mind would want that. Life is hard enough.

I make excuses for you and me, reasons why I need you, like children need Santa Claus. When I was...

thegettingout — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 12:12:06 -0400

I make excuses for you and me, reasons why I need you, like children need Santa Claus. When I was little, my parents tried to tell me the truth and I insisted no, Santa Claus did indeed fit himself down our chimney. While you do not attempt to slide down the chimney, your warmth slides down my body and into my heart.

The woman with one gloved hand walks off the train before the doors ding closed. Stairwell jammed,...

makingrentinnyc — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 12:12:05 -0400

The woman with one gloved hand walks off the train before the doors ding closed. Stairwell jammed, she keeps her tote level; holding straps securely, with one gloved hand. Her stride, the pride of finishing school; bumped from the side, she holds on. Top of the stairs, she exits with conviction, walks down Vandam; the package, held tight with one gloved hand.

The night was warm so we left our clothes in the sand and headed for the waves. The ocean was rough...

w-a-n-d-e-r-l-u-s-t — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 12:13:05 -0400

The night was warm so we left our clothes in the sand and headed for the waves. The ocean was rough and cold against our naked bodies. A wave knocked me against him and I was caught in his arms. And all of the sudden I tasted bubble gum, felt his hand on my back and the other tangled in my hair.

“You need to eat,” I said. She came into the living room with a distraught look on her face. Her...

flyingspirit — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 12:16:06 -0400

“You need to eat,” I said.

She came into the living room with a distraught look on her face. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her. He had been cheating and, of course, she didn’t want to admit it, though the whole world knew it. She slumped down on to the couch.

“I’ll live,” she replied simply.

I wasn’t so sure.

In nothing but a towel, she stares at the girl in the mirror. She loathes its reflection, sickened...

thewritersaddress — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 12:42:06 -0400

In nothing but a towel, she stares at the girl in the mirror. She loathes its reflection, sickened by its appearance. A black bag emerges. The tools for beauty. She begins to work. Her labour complete, she is changed. Unrecognizable. She sighs, knowing God didn’t create her this way. To the world, she is beautiful, but she has never felt so ugly.

If they say a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have reread your short story more times than...

wassailing — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 13:26:05 -0400

If they say a picture is worth a thousand words, then I have reread your short story more times than I can remember. I find the consonants of your perfect lips as beautiful as the vowels of your crystal blue eyes. The background reminds me of when the word “us” was still nonfiction. Yes, I know these thousand words all too well.

There’s nothing between us. Nothing except distance. You’re oceans, seas, and mountains away from...

vanilliia — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 13:06:05 -0400

There’s nothing between us. Nothing except distance. You’re oceans, seas, and mountains away from me. Time is the bittersweet torment. But it’s okay. You think about my perfume smell, and I – the light cigarette smell printed on you. I count down the days we meet and you predict our future nights. I’m an addict in your withdrawal, impatiently waiting for your presence.

Silence. It was the hardest part to take in. In the distance, they appeared as children’s drawings,...

xabes — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 12:56:06 -0400

Silence. It was the hardest part to take in. In the distance, they appeared as children’s drawings, giant V’s or M’s in the air. Up close they were feathered, fast – dropping from above the clouds to pluck people from suburban gardens and restaurant patios, topless cars and zig-zag sunbathing chairs. Happening so fast that all that was left were open mouths. Silent.

She watched and waited for something to happen. As she watched, the world moved around her. Things...

rosesfromashes-deactivated20111 — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 13:01:06 -0400

She watched and waited for something to happen. As she watched, the world moved around her. Things happened to her friends, her family, and she tapped her fingers against her cubicle walls at a quiet bank and wished for things to happen to her. She waited for her forever, her prince charming, her knight in silver armor. She watched and waited. Nothing.

Morning was still in the apartment, devoid of incessant clamouring blares and beeps. But no spring...

groundlessmusings — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 12:31:05 -0400

Morning was still in the apartment, devoid of incessant clamouring blares and beeps. But no spring morning could be properly hushed, with littler sounds filling the air like air itself filled space. Soft blades of grass became fluttering hearts in the charming gust; fallen leaves shrieked in jest as they scrapped helplessly along the asphalt walkway. These were voices of the wind.