patrickprejusa
He looked normal. Just an ordinary man walking off the platform of a space ship that just landed in my backyard. The word flex spelled across his space suit.
It was more than just pain. It was like music. What disturbed most others, she delighted in. A blade to the shoulder, a stab to the arm, a bullet in the knee. The more they attacked her, the more it motivated her. Every shock wave, bite, and signal of pain that surged through her body, only brought a wider smile to her face. It was a symphony, an orchestra of pain, playing in concert to her masochistic senses. Inspiration to push further. It's what made her invincible, and what made her enemies fear her.
He was trapped. The hordes of evil monsters approached the castle gates. The legions of dark knights marching behind them. He was but one warrior with one sword. How would this battle end? Would he live? Would he die? The question would have to be answered after supper. His mother was calling. The warrior lay down his ruler/weapon. He exited the castle made of couch cushions and headed for the dinner table. This battle will continue after he fights the dreaded green bean casserole monster.
It was unfortunate for her that her name just happened to be Megan, and she just happened to be the loudest person in the entire school. We called her megaphone. And often times MEGAN-phone. She hated both. So much so that she would yell at us very loudly when we mentioned it. This just made us laugh at her even harder.
He did everything right. He was patient beyond what a normal person could be. He was tolerant of his atmosphere. The heat, the insects, the long lonely silence. He waited longer than he'd waited for anything in his entire life. And as his target entered his sights, this sniper was ready to take action. If only he didn't do that one thing. Maybe then his target wouldn't have seen him. Maybe then his target wouldn't have returned fire. This particular sniper would still be alive. He did everything right, except one thing. He shouldn't have lit that cigarette. Smoking, it kills.
It was unbelievable. Indescribable. To finally hold him once more. All those old feelings that were just memories came rushing back to reality, as soon as their arms wrapped around each other. To hold him again after all this time. It was beyond lovely. She didn't think she would ever feel this way again. To feelthis warmth again, so long after he had died.
Her leg was pinned to the floor. No movement. The control console was too far away. Not enough time to reach it. No way to stop the speeding bullet train from hitting the oncoming stone wall.
"Oh well," She thought. "At least I'll have 6 lives left."
They called them "trailers" because they initially came after the movie was over. Trailing the film, giving the audience a sneak peek at coming movies. When they switched them to before the film, they tried to call them "coming attractions" or "previews". But for projectionist like us, we kept calling them trailers. What ever the term, I always considered them to be sacred and exciting. Because each trailer or preview was another chance that you'd catch something exciting, inspiring, or amazing. And you'll know, the opportunity to enter a new and exciting world would be "coming soon".
It was a crossing. Where the light and the dark met. An intersection between fear and wonder. It's where people say they see angels, spirits, and monsters. And it was the only way out.
She was puzzled. She'd never seen anything like it before. He was still standing, when normally two shots to the chest would put someone down. Not only was he standing, but he was smiling.
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writing since 2011 · 12 entries · 11 days shown up
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comingexcitingtargetpainmachinesgadgetmachinestandingdarkfearmonsterstrailersfilmcallingsoonbullet