Entries By Les
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 43 Entries
magenta
She popped her lips and stared into the mirror. Everything was ok except her hollow eyes and pale skin – like she had been in a bunker for the winter and had just re-emerged. Maybe the lips would distract from her deathmask.
Posted By Les On 04.21.2013 @ 4:37 pm
claims
It was dubious, she thought, thumbing the book and making her way to the back. “Studied in India under Ghandi.” It sounded like it was written by a high schooler. She looked up from under her eyelashes at the gentleman and scoffed audibly.
“I’m sorry, no.”
Posted By Les On 02.06.2013 @ 12:42 pm
swell
There arose a swell in the sea so magnificent, Trudy was lost under the waves for a good 5 minutes. Surely she had not survived that? But as Ben watched and watched he finally glimpsed the red ribbon, and soon after a cascade of dripping amber tresses that were unmistakably Trudy’s.
Posted By Les On 01.31.2013 @ 9:09 am
size
It mattered. Why is it her brain always went to that? She was short, so when she sat in those plush chairs in the hotel lobby, she sank down in and her eye level was right… there. She felt like a wolf in search of a sheep.
Posted By Les On 01.15.2013 @ 11:41 am
trial
He found he could not speak.
“You understand the charges leveled against you, correct Mr. Hastings?”
Davida plunged through the door just then, breathless.
“Stop talking to him! Ivan, say nothing. His lawyer will be here presently.”
He tried to get a sense of the gravity of his fate from her eyes, but as manic as she seemed, they was giving nothing away just yet.
Posted By Les On 09.21.2012 @ 12:59 pm
patrol
Eion tossed his head back for a second to look at the stars. He sighed, his eyes bright with the glimmer of the millions of heavenly bodies shining in the clear black sky above him, when he heard a rustle. In a flash his AK was steady in his arms, pointing in every direction. He listened, waiting for a cue.
Posted By Les On 07.19.2012 @ 3:25 pm
harness
She saw time slipping away from her, felt the surge of power leaving her body. She had nothing left to give. The last thing she remembered was the sudden warmth of a strong hand on her back, before her mind melted into nothingness.
Posted By Les On 07.02.2012 @ 11:51 am
luggage
She grabbed her bag off the counter and huffed as she pushed past the concerned onlookers in a daze. There were supposed to be two tickets. TWO tickets, not one. Tears started to form at the corners of her eyes and she brushed them away in her mind, brushed and fought and thundered her way through the lobby and back out those automatic double doors. Back into the stifling world of LA.
Posted By Les On 05.11.2012 @ 11:33 am
solitaire
My entire day at work is occupied by these miniature cards. Forming them, moving them, double-clicking, scrolling – I’m surprised I’ve managed to avoid carpal tunnel syndrome up till now (fingers crossed). It’s wrecking my posture, as well. My tendinitis is on its way back… Ah, solitaire.
Posted By Les On 11.18.2011 @ 9:33 am
orchestra
My mother joined the orchestra when I was eight. I remember sitting in the audience, humming the tunes to myself (they would become very familiar to me after weeks of rehearsals), swinging my legs to the music. I watched my mother’s hands move the bow back and forth across the strings of her cello. Her mouth moved along to the beat, keeping time and reminding herself of the notes.
Posted By Les On 11.15.2011 @ 6:27 am
passionate
I think I’m passionate about being a bad writer. I hate everything I produce. Including this. I didn’t even use the word “passionate” right. Bloody hell.
What a shit day.
What a shit life, more like.
Posted By Les On 11.01.2011 @ 6:45 am
artistry
In the hall above the side table hung a portrait of the woman of the house. Her face revealed nothing, but that she was alone.
The man of the house had suffered some sort of mental spell and was currently living in an institution in Connecticut somewhere unknown to the rest of the family.
Posted By Les On 10.27.2011 @ 8:27 am
castle
She tapped the edge of her champagne glass with a delicate finger, holding it aloft. The waiter was at her side in the blink of an eye. She watched him with a keen eye until the frothy liquid had reached the tippy top of the glass, then finally nodded. “Thank you.”
Posted By Les On 10.19.2011 @ 12:44 pm
dull
My intellect has dulled since I graduated. I can almost feel it seeping out through my skin, becoming dumber and dumber as the days pass.
The thing that worries me most, I think, is that I don’t care enough to stop drinking. Or to enroll in grad school or something. I don’t mind the loss.
Posted By Les On 10.18.2011 @ 6:39 am
warfare
The battle between my eyelids and sleep rages on and sleep is winning.
Posted By Les On 10.17.2011 @ 10:59 am
She doesn’t budge.
“I told you, I’m not going.”
A minute ticks by and I can feel her breath on my skin.
“Move.”
I know it’s futile, but I say it anyway.
She just shakes her head, her feet firmly planted on the line in the sand – no closer.
Posted By Les On 10.16.2011 @ 4:10 pm
spring
It seemed so far away, that time in May when she could pull up her hair and feel the breeze against the back of her neck, so warm and calm and life-giving. She closed her eyes and smiled in remembrance, then opened them again to stare out at the white expanse beyond her living room bay window. There would be no leaving the house today.
Posted By Les On 10.12.2011 @ 12:57 pm
prosperous
My sister was always more successful than I was, whether it was baking, traveling or getting a man – she was there first, and she held on to her wealth. I, on the other hand, found myself always grasping for things and missing. It was an empty feeling sometimes.
Posted By Les On 10.07.2011 @ 5:58 pm
warned
He had warned me of the impending visit, but I’d let it slip my mind, down in the cracks between what was for dinner and where to park. But then there he was, uniformed and standing straight as a board, waiting for me to say something. I couldn’t say a word.
Posted By Les On 10.05.2011 @ 11:46 am
braid
She finished doing up her braid with a flourish and sat down beside him on the wall.
“Up to your old tricks again, Stewart?” When she laughed, her eyes crinkled pleasantly.
I didn’t know how to answer her.
“I’m… just sitting here.” I said.
“Like a bump on a log,” she mused, and put her head rather disarmingly on my shoulder.
Posted By Les On 10.01.2011 @ 6:29 pm
romantic
I was a romantic back in the day, though not anymore. These days my idea of romance is taken straight from the chick flick romantic comedies I watch and has nothing to do with reality. The good thing about it is that I am aware of this. I’m not deluding myself. I think I’ve just come to terms with the fact that romance will never exist in my life in any real way. I’ve accepted it, now I can keep living in my fantasy world as usual.
Posted By Les On 09.30.2011 @ 11:52 am
playground
The Devil’s Playground is massive and enthralling. Once you enter it, you can’t leave. At least not easily. It takes an immense amount of will and strength to tear yourself away. I should know; I’m still there.
Posted By Les On 09.27.2011 @ 12:30 pm
port
Any port in a storm, she figured, smiling and hiding her chagrin. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the cab. She was just drunk enough not to think about what the next morning might look like, and let her body follow his.
Posted By Les On 09.23.2011 @ 6:46 am
existence
Like a fucking nightmare, she thought as she gazed out the window at the rain in what she smirkingly referred to later (to herself) as a cliched manner. Too apathetic to live, too averse to pain to die. What a place to be in.
Posted By Les On 09.08.2011 @ 8:46 am
respectable
He was a respectable man. One to whom others applied themselves, no matter the cause. He was a reprehensible man. One to whom others were subjugated without care. He was a man about whom volumes could be written which said nothing.
Posted By Les On 01.09.2011 @ 11:09 am
well
well well well…look what we have here. I knew you’d be back. You can’t resist walking in and out of my life, causing damage every time. This time, i wont have it. Im standing up for myself. This time I will be the one to walk away.
Posted By les On 05.03.2009 @ 5:57 pm
lock
“You can’t even lock the door properly!” Sophia screamed, her voice echoing down the long wooden hallway.
He didn’t answer; whether because he hadn’t heard her or because he chose not to respond, she couldn’t be certain.
Posted By Les On 01.28.2009 @ 12:30 pm
middle
She was the middle child. Which mend, for the most part, she was able to slide under the radar of most people. Parents, siblings, even teachers and friends. She got used to the silence, the alone time, feeling invisible. She learned to use it to her advantage. She was never suspected of being the culprit of any crime, however big or small.
Posted By Les On 01.27.2009 @ 6:14 pm
