oneword.com

Cause and effect are what drive curiosity. If I do this, what will the effects be? I don’t know, I’ve never tried it. Has anyone? Let’s find out!

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 05.16.2011 @ 8:02 pm

Since 1987, I’ve had a console to console me. First it was NES, just three letters and about that many kilobytes. Last came a perpetually incomplete PC. Now it’s the world and no consolation.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 05.10.2011 @ 6:07 pm

Would his resolve waver, after going this far, to another world in a ship filled with nothing but his dreams?

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 05.07.2011 @ 10:58 pm

After the last real slice, the survivors came to the heel. It was divided, then they zipped in for the long winter.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 05.06.2011 @ 9:50 pm

Iron becomes rust, the way that young people become old. It takes oxygen, water, and time. The form iron once took might change, and lose it’s function, but it continues to be iron.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 04.24.2011 @ 2:04 am

Basic was the first programming language I used. Back in seventh grade I would study code on my orange and black screen, and reproduce bits of it. I mashed those pieces together into art and games. It was then that I learned logic opens doors in the mind.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 03.02.2011 @ 1:18 am

Tables form the main buildings, chairs are towers. We push them together and throw blankets over the top. Cushions are walls, and inside a king and a queen discuss their subjects. We rule!

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 02.25.2011 @ 5:38 pm

Barber sounds like something found on the Spanish coast. When I was young I thought I might end up on the Spanish coast, as a pirate washed up, or a rich lord gazing at his villa. I ended up on the Jersey coast, combing, cutting, and listening. I’m happier than any pirate or lord I’ve ever met.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 02.24.2011 @ 5:54 pm

A park bench with white clothes strewn over it in winter. No sign of anyone or any tracks leading to or from it, and no fresh snow for days. The clothes are folded and clean, a full set, entirely white. The wind whispers by.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 02.24.2011 @ 3:57 am

The sage on the butternut squash ravioli looked crisp and delicious. It reminded him of the sage he should burn in the closet, to cleanse whatever spirits had moved in. It was just last night that he was woken three times by bursts of light and the laughter of children behind the closed door.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 02.20.2011 @ 5:50 pm

Cards like Birds in the high winds, they blew from some tourist stall down at the wharf, now they fly as beautifully for a moment as green parrots. Who would they have gone to otherwise? Better the wind and the bay than great aunts and cousins who would throw them away.

Posted By A.G. Beyer On 02.20.2011 @ 3:20 am