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Braid it down the ladder of a blond, fixed by a dragon hairpin on a tall man the size of the Eiffel Tower, amidst a throng of midget ninjas in rose brocade pajamas wielding bayonets and eating Cornish pasties.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 07.01.2011 @ 2:29 pm

“Their morals and their codes prevent them from acting on the good of the realm,” he said. “What good is the Light when there is no Darkness? Do you not close your eyes and sleep within the hallowed safety of night? Would you not be uncomfortable if the sun was out every waking hour?”

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.27.2011 @ 2:54 am

On his helm were two golden antlers, gleaming brightly in the western Sun. Atop his warhorse, he charged at his opponent, lance in hand, gripping the shield in his left hand tightly as if he were running into the alpha wolf of the pack.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.25.2011 @ 12:01 pm

The intense fires burned the placid waters, generating a cloud of steam so high a vacuum couldn’t hold it. No lid in the world could contain the reaction. It sizzled; it hissed; the waters raged against the burning, but no amount of tears could drown the flames.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.23.2011 @ 9:34 am

The cells held the world within his mind like a castle tower holding the princess captive. The theatre that held the dance in his head closed its curtains one final time as the poppy sleep took hold of him and he drifted into oblivion.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.21.2011 @ 1:06 pm

I led the funeral procession, ahead of the crowd that gathered for the slain that lay in a box of pine. His last words were: “Please don’t kill me.” I looked at him, unblinking, before I delivered the lethal cut.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.12.2011 @ 4:19 am

The rise of the heart shadows the encroaching storm from beyond the hollows of the crown. Therein lies the pattern and pillow; the sword and mace; the silk and poison.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.10.2011 @ 12:06 pm

Over and under; around the corner; jumping over the black-yellow obstacle. We dash as if it were out last; outrunning air toward a goal that we cannot yet fathom. Only the chase counts; only the last breath at the end of the line is worth the effort.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.09.2011 @ 11:11 am

The act of forgetting purposefully is an art. After all, art is not about what you put into a piece, but what you leave out of it.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.08.2011 @ 3:35 am

Her rosy red cheeks were painted with a shade of crimson too dark for her complexion. Shyness or abuse; it’s a fine line to tread amongst so great a company. She smiled at the painter anyway, as he took the portrait in a blink of an eye.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.07.2011 @ 2:30 am

The plaid paid pants worn by the pained pedestrian crossing the playground beyond the petunias were processed by purveyors of pure pointlessness.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.06.2011 @ 4:50 am

The plaid paid pants worn by the pained pedestrian crossing the playground beyond the petunias were processed by purveyors of pure pointlessness.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.06.2011 @ 4:50 am

Hit the sleep button on the black-topped, silver-chrome radio. The rubes wind down, hot from the constant whining of the broadcaster. Things are made up of sounds in the world of lucid dreams. Where can I find your voice amidst the ocean of collective thoughts?

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 06.04.2011 @ 5:11 am

We sat in the corner, looking out into the bustle of the canteen. With drinks in hand, we peered over to the table of gamblers. All of them were deep in meditation. The numbers in their hands a mathematical equation to turn lead into gold.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 05.27.2011 @ 8:57 am

Crimson and fire adorned the room in my mind’s eye. Second sight gave me the truth to where my heart lay quenched in a bath of a flickering torch amidst a turquoise sea. It burned, but not because of the flame; because of the love hidden within the fairy’s bright blue eyes whenever I peer into them to seek the future.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 05.26.2011 @ 7:17 am

The mole crept through the mole-made tunnels of his mine. “Mine,” he thought to himself. “A mine that’s mine.” He scurried through a passageway; dark and damp; cold and alone.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 05.19.2011 @ 3:52 am

Being tempted by something on offer isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes, you need to see the other options; to test your limits; to engage your senses. Isn’t that what temptation is? An offer? Call it what you will, but being tempted by a car or a beautiful person is the same thing.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 05.18.2011 @ 2:36 am

I was curious to look into the window. No one was there; no furniture; no pets; not even dust. I felt as though someone had left something behind in the desolate place; something more than a ghostly memory. A ghost? No; there was something else. Something more powerful; something sadder.

Posted By Kendrick Ong On 05.17.2011 @ 8:07 am