Entries By X
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There was nothing familiar about him now; he had been born anew. He looked as he always had but now he smelled different – muskier, dustier, older, somehow. His gait was heavier, as if he carried all the world’s woes on his shoulders, and he tilted his head to one side and knitted his brows together when I spoke so that in the moment I felt that he really understood, that he really cared, but he offered no counsel and when I finally paused for breath I saw the full emptiness of his gaze.Posted By X On 10.11.2012 @ 6:32 am
“Go on, I dare you,” he said, looking at me expectantly.
I looked down the cliff at the water. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t a cliff so much as a big rock. But it could have been a cliff.
“I don’t want to,” I said. I hated heights.
“You do want to,” he said. “You just don’t want to admit that you do.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I really don’t want to.”
He shook his head. “Then I guess that’s it,” he said.Posted By X On 08.05.2012 @ 9:14 pm
She had called each of her friends and extolled the virtues of her plan for hours to each. She had written to her member of government. She had organized bake sales and printed off bumper stickers. Yet no one knew or cared much about the changes she was proposing; people were missing their favorite shows, hadn’t they worked enough that week? Moralizing wasn’t getting anywheres. She had one option left, she was going to the hardware store and buying a gun.Posted By X On 03.14.2012 @ 10:58 am
Recycling. That’s what he was doing. He shifted her clothes from one box to another. Throw away. Keep. Charity shop. same way you might sort the cans and bottles before throwing the rubbish away. Recycle. Strange to think that in three weeks some stranger would be wearing her clothes. That one smells like a hospital. Throw away.Posted By x On 03.11.2012 @ 12:27 pm
The odds that they would meet on that dreary night were ten to one. One to one hundred. Yet there they were. The cold nipped at their feet but what did they care? Their breath swirled as they sighed heavily, light from a flickering lamp post illuminated the lines on the old man’s face. Laugh lines and wrinkles. What were the odds that they would meet after all this time? Ten to one… One to one hundred….Posted By X On 01.29.2012 @ 10:05 pm
The door opened quietly, breezing open on a well-oiled hinge. But a human didn’t enter the room. It was a wisp of smoke that curled cruelly around the door’s frame. The smoke infested the room at once and infiltrated the innocents’ lungs as they slept. But this wasn’t smoke that came from the burning blaze that might consume them alive. This was a more deadly, second hand smoke that would slowly corrode their bodies, inside out.Posted By X On 01.23.2012 @ 11:11 pm
The trunk made a sound that neither driver nor passenger noticed. It was not a very loud sound; it was the soft and small and quiet sound of punches against metal. In the wing mirror he caught sight of the thick green stalks trailing from the car, dragging along the weathered road as the car sped well over the speed limit. He pulled over, and approached the vines with caution. Upon identifying their source – the trunk – he lifted the latch and pulled up the lid to be enveloped by a cloud of red and pink and white petals, and sparkling droplets of dew, and the fragrance of five hundred flowers crushed into a very small space. More vines grew out of the trunk and seemed to run off down the road, enormous rosebuds blooming further and further off in the distance. The vines grew in the opposite direction too: into the car, and around the headboards of the front seats and into the radio and around the rear-view mirror and over the bonnet and wrapping themselves around the tyres, with those beautifully impossible roses blooming all the while.Posted By X On 01.04.2012 @ 10:24 am