A strand of hair was falling onto her face as she stood before the bench. They’d been here, in this park, more times than she could remember now. They’d been happy. So happy in fact, that she could barely believe that a person could smile as widely as she had at the time.
There are a variety of theories we place for ourselves about the universe. Strand is one of them. We tend to believe–as common folk–what ever we hear about the stars. That I suppose is our downfall, but also why we are called common.
a strand of something new.
something different and beautiful
falling out of the loose knit of your jumper
or the tight weave of your jeans
a strand of seashells on the shore.
or maybe…
something else…
something more.
I can only think of cliches. Strands of hair. Strands of seaweed. Walking on the strand, except no one says that these days. Old fashioned. Strands of time, disappearing, thinning like hair, spinning in gyres.
The strand of hair floated slowly off of her shoulder and landed in the middle of the salad plate. No one saw. Would she be able to get it out of there without anyone seeing what had happened? Could she pull it off in front of all of her company?
Gliding down from an uneven part,
A blood ridden pupil meets concrete.
Shaking steady onto asphalt
As feet of rage never quaked
But instead waited for the punch line.
A plane to turn into an equation
That evolved into stories
When all that was left
Were strands
A strand of hair was found on the sofa. It was a clue. It had been broken off and was frayed but it was indeed her hair. Did this mean she was stranded somewhere? Call in the cops and fbi…we need to find her. No one knows where she is or is she is alive but we.….…
It wasn’t much. It was just a lone strand of her reddish brown hair. He found it on his pillow and it brought back memories of when she was his. Life was better then.
Sometimes I feel stranded. I just can’t believe what goes on in this world. How people treat each other…I can’t imagine doing that, but then I wonder if I do the same thing and don’t even notice. Stranded in a world where human nature and social constructs collide. It sucks.
A strand of hair was falling onto her face as she stood before the bench. They’d been here, in this park, more times than she could remember now. They’d been happy. So happy in fact, that she could barely believe that a person could smile as widely as she had at the time.
By Triinu on 05.10.2008
There are a variety of theories we place for ourselves about the universe. Strand is one of them. We tend to believe–as common folk–what ever we hear about the stars. That I suppose is our downfall, but also why we are called common.
By Derek on 05.10.2008
a strand of something new.
something different and beautiful
falling out of the loose knit of your jumper
or the tight weave of your jeans
a strand of seashells on the shore.
or maybe…
something else…
something more.
By ellie on 05.10.2008
I can only think of cliches. Strands of hair. Strands of seaweed. Walking on the strand, except no one says that these days. Old fashioned. Strands of time, disappearing, thinning like hair, spinning in gyres.
By C L A on 05.10.2008
on a beach with a gun in his hand.. staring at the sea, staring at the [strand]
By jaime on 05.10.2008
A strand of hair
Dangling
Tickles the eyes
A strand of rope
to keep it tied
no escaping this time
By Faleoh on 05.10.2008
The strand of hair floated slowly off of her shoulder and landed in the middle of the salad plate. No one saw. Would she be able to get it out of there without anyone seeing what had happened? Could she pull it off in front of all of her company?
By Meme on 05.10.2008
Gliding down from an uneven part,
A blood ridden pupil meets concrete.
Shaking steady onto asphalt
As feet of rage never quaked
But instead waited for the punch line.
A plane to turn into an equation
That evolved into stories
When all that was left
Were strands
By Yep on 05.10.2008
hair, lost, abandon, leave, abort,
By Monica on 05.10.2008
My hair falls forward into my face with the exception of one strand which stands on end and points to a passing cloud.
By Marsha on 05.10.2008
A strand of hair was found on the sofa. It was a clue. It had been broken off and was frayed but it was indeed her hair. Did this mean she was stranded somewhere? Call in the cops and fbi…we need to find her. No one knows where she is or is she is alive but we.….…
By Monica on 05.10.2008
It wasn’t much. It was just a lone strand of her reddish brown hair. He found it on his pillow and it brought back memories of when she was his. Life was better then.
By cray on 05.10.2008
Sometimes I feel stranded. I just can’t believe what goes on in this world. How people treat each other…I can’t imagine doing that, but then I wonder if I do the same thing and don’t even notice. Stranded in a world where human nature and social constructs collide. It sucks.
By chloe. on 05.10.2008