Entries By vish
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To place a sugar cube into a glass of water, you have to intend to make it dissolve. To tear it apart, but in no way to destroy it. Imagine spreading everything in your room all over the world, would that be destruction, or dissolving? Imagine how those sugar particles feel. Do they miss their friends or are they glad that they are exploring?Posted By Vish On 05.01.2013 @ 9:22 pm
He laid a hand on her stomach. It was still soft, as he had always remembered it, but he knew that a cyclone churned underneath. The free radicals she’d been exposed to during her work had permeated her bloodstream, and now even opening her eyes was a challenge. He lowered his head, closed his eyes, and sighed. The best he could wish for her now was a quick death.Posted By vish On 10.21.2011 @ 9:30 pm
They all turned and stared at me for a moment, beginning to recognize that I wasn’t a circus performer. I’d have to talk fast or they would probably kick me out. I also knew she was probably the kind of girl who got a lot of attention from men… The best way to win her over would be to nonchalant — that’d sidetrack her.
“I heard you talking about recipes,” I said, “and I just wanted to tell you about my mom’s delicious, secret recipe for apple pie.”
They looked interested, expecting me to go on.Posted By vish On 01.22.2011 @ 11:10 am
I got my chance when the crowd began dissipating after the finale. It was magnificent — there were fireworks, lasers… the works. But I was still watching the girl.
I had to sneak around for a bit, staying long after everyone in the audience had been shepherded out of the circus. I walked around, pretending to be one of them, pretty much blindly searching for her before I finally found her, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a group of other circus women, exchanging recipes they’d like to try out once they got home. I stepped forward and said hello.Posted By vish On 01.19.2011 @ 8:11 am
I couldn’t help it — I closed my eyes, laid my head on the grass, and went back in time again.
What was it that drew me to her first? I’ll be honest. It was her lithe, athletic body, maneuvering through every circus obstacle and trick like they were all just child’s play. But, captured in her graceful theatrics, I could see her personality shining through. She was the kind of person who loved life and everything it had to offer. I decided I had to find her after the show was over.Posted By vish On 01.17.2011 @ 7:19 pm
I was tempted to go, but I felt drained. Even lifting my fingers slightly was exceedingly difficult, and going to a circus, surrounded by the flashing lights and dancing people and silly clowns seemed impossible. But I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and get out the door.Posted By vish On 01.17.2011 @ 7:39 am
“Goddamnit!” she screamed at herself in the mirror. A few other women in the bathroom turned to stare at her, but quickly returned to their own business. Her eye makeup — the elaborate layering of eyeliner and eye shadow — had gotten smeared and blotched all over her face when she started crying. This would take ages to fix.Posted By vish On 01.12.2011 @ 4:46 am
The hunter’s green clothing was in tatters by the time he walked through the door of his house. Collapsing on the floor, he held up the grisly trophy of the evil wolf’s paw for all to see. His wife rushed over to him, trying to tend to his wounds, but he shrugged off the help and stood up by himself, releasing a manly roar from his lungs that shook the house to its very foundation.Posted By vish On 01.10.2011 @ 8:52 pm
The gentleman, dressed in a dark navy suit and armed with a cane, top hat, and monocle, made his way through the town. Unperturbed by the suffering and decay around him, he maintained his respectable demeanor effortlessly, tipping his hat at other gentlemen and ladies as he passed by them.Posted By vish On 01.09.2011 @ 11:08 am
“Perfectly executed!” the old man exclaimed in his light British accent, clapping his hands together. The sound reverberated throughout the empty theater, dying down at first but echoing back a few moments later in a chorus of “Perfectly!”s. Even though the praise came from only one man, I basked in it — I was finally ready for the real test tomorrow.Posted By vish On 01.07.2011 @ 6:11 pm
It was the purported reason they’d set out in the beginning — sailing around the world, discovering all the canals and bays and trading ports and routes that would lead them back to their home after their arduous journey. Though belief in that ideal started off strong, it began to dwindle. The eventual mutiny was inevitable.Posted By vish On 01.06.2011 @ 6:48 pm
I’d have deemed it a figment of my imagination if it hadn’t just happened right in front of my eyes. It was like something you might read in any novel: people are walking back from a night of revelry, a little dazed, and not mindful of where they’re going. Before they know it, they’ve been beset by muggers, robbed, beat up, and left standing in the cold with nothing.Posted By vish On 01.05.2011 @ 1:56 pm
How do I phrase this? It’s the constant dilemma of my life. Others, who simply cruise through language without a care for diction or syntax, are not plagued with this perpetual confusion, the endless doubt about which arrangement of which words will create the perfectly-phrased statement to communicate my thoughts.Posted By vish On 01.05.2011 @ 6:33 am
It’s a common motif in songs — Kings of Leon’s “Use Somebody,” Death Cab for Cutie’s “I Will Possess Your Heart.” That’s all we really want, isn’t it? To be noticed, known, remembered by people who we deem to be meaningful. That desire for respect and admiration is what drives so many of us to accomplish something with our lives.Posted By vish On 01.02.2011 @ 3:53 pm
They do come true, sometimes. But the old, worn-out adage tends to be true — sometimes you get exactly what you wanted, and then realize it’s not all you thought it would be.
On the other hand, sometimes what you wanted turns out to be so much better than what you could’ve imagined. That’s happened to me sometimes, too.Posted By vish On 12.29.2010 @ 12:17 pm
I sat at the little table on my porch, rocking back and forth in my chair and polishing the ancient pennies with a dirty rag and some vinegar. Neighbors, passersby, children — they all wandered past. But I was engrossed in the coins, their once brilliant sheen, tarnished by time and restored again with a few rubs from my cloth.Posted By vish On 12.28.2010 @ 8:53 pm
“Obviously, that’s not the case here.”
It was her favorite word. As if everyone in the entire world always knew what she was thinking and agreed with it wholeheartedly, and she was just vocalizing her thoughts as a chore. I found it incredibly annoying, but I couldn’t mention it to her — people don’t take kindly to criticism.Posted By vish On 12.25.2010 @ 2:46 pm
Because of her parents’ rocky marriage, she’d decided at an early age to close herself off to everyone. In contrast with most people, she rejected any efforts for human connection. She believed that everyone was self-interested, so anyone who tried to get closer to her, she decided, was simply trying to take advantage of her.Posted By vish On 11.28.2010 @ 6:41 am
Her caress was as gentle as a rose petal brushing against my skin, so it’s understandable that I didn’t feel it at first. After all, she didn’t want me to. She wanted me to keep sleeping while she just watched me protectively, with a perfectly content smile on her face.Posted By vish On 11.26.2010 @ 11:04 pm
“You only need one of ‘em,” my father said. He was an aging man, raised in the foothills of the Rockies. His grizzled beard gave his face a prickly look, like a wise old porcupine.
He was right most of the time. After a moment of reflection, I agreed with him this time, too. You really only need one person in the world who truly understands you.Posted By vish On 11.26.2010 @ 8:01 am
Cleaning up the house when we argued had always been a habit of hers. We’d disagree about something and start arguing, but she’d promptly grab a feather duster and start walking through the living room, dusting lightly on all the tables and lamps. I’d have to follow her around, trying to make my point before she gave a snappy retort and stepped into another room. It was annoying, but at the same time I found it exceedingly difficult to be mad at her. The whole situation was just so funny.Posted By vish On 11.22.2010 @ 9:34 am
“I’m certain about this.”
My father used to say that very often back in the day. I remember sitting in the back seat of the car, a scared child hoping his parents would arrive at some sort of consensus and get along. My mother continued to disagree and argue. She didn’t trust him, and she had no reason to — he typically had no idea what he was doing, even though he thought he did.Posted By vish On 11.11.2010 @ 3:02 pm
I’ve been told I’m a good teacher. I think that’s because I try my best to explain things in a way someone who doesn’t know anything about a subject could understand. I’m not always successful, and I think I do often get bogged down in a quagmire of technicalities and intricacies. But I think that skill – teaching – is synonymous with good, clear writing. Writing clearly is basically like teaching a reader what you’re thinking, and the skill of explication is central to both activities.Posted By vish On 11.07.2010 @ 8:41 pm
Beep. Boop. Blip. Blap?
I glanced at the flashing green radar screen as it made comical noises and I narrowed my eyes. There was a strange pattern emerging. I couldn’t comprehend it just yet, but it seemed that several unidentified objects were approaching our ship from the starboard side. I waited for the impending crash, and when it came, sprang into action like the badass action-movie-star I was.Posted By vish On 11.06.2010 @ 2:01 pm
He hissed at me! That dratted vampire, running away from me as I attempted to chase him down, turned around while perched on a tree branch, bared his fangs, and hissed at me before transforming into a bat and flying away. Until then, my chase had just been about the bounty on his head. Now, it was about honor.Posted By vish On 10.31.2010 @ 1:39 pm
They sang to me over the currents and the crashing waves, and their voices somehow carried supernaturally despite the gale we were in. I was entranced. They gave me the strength to fight through the storm and emerge alive, though far from unscathed. But it wasn’t much of a life at all, because then I was their slave forever.Posted By vish On 10.27.2010 @ 5:39 pm