goshyousmellbad
down by the shoreline the boy and the girl sat at the edge of the woods outside the cabin, warmth, the fire, and everything behind them. they got up to watch the sunrise, streaks over the water, looking on at the void itself. there are two boats propped up like paper cutouts against the sky. we have been running like this forever.
she tells me she's never walked in the rain before today, felt the acid on her tongue or the acrid tears mixed with her own.
when you feel the water rise above your ankles, in sheer realization that venice is sinking, don't panic. grab your gondola, and we'll cannon down the canal, leaving in our wake hesitant ripples and fish wondering whatever was it that struck them.
the roar pierced the heavens above, sending eagles gliding away in terror. the foliage rustled, the trees shook, and all the once, nature parted to the claws of the t-rex.
she slammed the wooden ruler into the depths of the whiteboard, sending a reverberation of wood-against-board thunder across the incessant chattering of the students. they were not shaken, however, and hurling her ruler at the nearest boy, she stormed out, not returning because she wasn't as forgiving as the last one.
my father dumped his bowler on the hook, her coat on a hanger and its leash in a soggy pile below them all
i am tipped over; mountains green and blue and sliding past me, beyond whatever i can grip. i thought they stuck but clearly not.
something about dragons, and princesses tied to limestone in the karst landscape of limestone caves in medieval Europe tickles me. something about fire-breathing monsters and blonde princes is the stuff of midnight reading under the blankets. illuminate the pages of my book with a torch. or a candle, if you fancy.
words are a beautiful spell we try so hard to cast.
don't give me those snide remarks, tongues sharp like the broken bits of my porcelain bowls.
don't tell me "good job" or "excellent" or "keep it up you can do better next time"; encouragement doesn't oil my rusty joints.
enclose my face in purple cellophane and deliver the milk though drips and glucose tubes that enter and enlarge my nostrils. not that my nostrils are small.
load more entries