Howl Like An Abrupt Combustion

JournalWord: Combustion. :: You spew, bubble, and steam. Howling like an instant combustion. These phases of matter I can't explain. My dear, you're more complicated than my chemistry research. Sweet angel, from all these reactants, which will bring about the desired reaction? I'm mixing, measuring, calculating every equilibrium throughout the day. With nothing that brings a balance for the nights. A recipe of hush, lullabies, and rocking, perhaps? Maybe a beaker of warm milk to soothe your teeth? Baby girl, you're quite the simple little...

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I'm learning a lot about myself and those that are important to me during these busy times.

Just a tiny subtle slice of a recent thought through a memorable life-shaking reassurance. :: It's ten after two AM and I've caught the first snowflake of the season that has reached the valley. If I hadn't watched it's silent decent onto my fingertip, I wouldn't have known it arrived. It left a fleeting kiss before it disappeared, and I'm certain I won't remember it.  "Uncle! It's snowing!" And suddenly I'm nine years old and pointing out the obvious. He smiles and shakes his head, and I know he's tired from working this...

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A Life Left On The Shores

JournalWord: To an island. :: His fingers dig into the sand that spills away from his hands. He claws at a hidden rock but the silt sweeps away and pulls his handhold from under his palm.  They want him to sink back into the depth.  Coral scrapes at his ankles and shins as punishment for leaving home, and an urchin desperately threatens him to move another step.  His limbs are numb and he can't feel the chill that waits for him in the morning horizon. His mop of dark hair clings to his neck and forehead as they break the...

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Autumn Grace

JournalWord: Autumn. :: The alarm sets off in a blinding light behind his eyeballs like a protesting scream. His knee is pounding with every footfall, and he curses between a hiss when they threat to collapse. Spotting a bench, he quickly drops himself onto the wooden seat, immediately stretching his legs out in front of him gingerly as an apology.  His shirt is sticking to the trail of sweat running down his chest like a waning river. He yanks out the ends of his headphones, greeting silence from thick rock and roll. Flicking his...

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Pitch: Tonus: Part 3

The last part. I hope you've enjoyed my gladiator ;P :: This time, before he fully straightens, he lunges with his fists, but I easily dodge them for access to his uncovered back. I can feel the bone bend and crack under my knuckles. He doesn't try to get up, instead he lays on the hot sand and gasps. When I stalk towards him, fear finally settles on his features, sending panic to his scrambling limbs. Crouching, I easily grab a hold of him, grasping his long, thick golden hair in my left fist. He starts to sob, his mouth, once again, opening...

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Dreams That Come Alive

 What have I been up to, you ask? A bloody lot, that's what. I don't know what exactly has plagued me over the last week, but suddenly, every time I shut my eyes, I'm being barraged by vivid characters and their stories.  Every night it's something new. Every night I'm flashing through a life that isn't my own and, instead rules a time different from the next. A dystopian world where metal is murderous. A...

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Pitch: Tune: Part 2

:: A net is fisted in his left hand, and a square, embellished shield in his right. I'm perplexed by the shield and realize it must be a gift, otherwise the weaponry of choice is appalling. The shield glints bright and the shine takes me by surprise. I catch my reflection in the polished surface and don't recognize the tall, dark man covered in blood and scars. Is this what I look like? I hide my disappointment behind a stone face as we approach each other. His eyes sweep over me and I draw myself up hoping to look especially...

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Pitch: Tone: Part 1

JournalWord: Gladiator :: The air always smells and tastes the same: salty and dusty. The screams and gurgles go unheard when I plunge my pilum into the throat of my fallen opponent. Not a sound escapes my own as the spectators scream from the surrounding stands. Dislodging the spearhead from the corpse, I kick at the bloodstained sand underfoot without a glance at the severed neck of the man. Eyes up at my audience instead, I revel at the pulsing reverberation that travels through my chest from the stomping of my fans. A smile approaches...

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Disruption of Plans

I like being in control. More specifically, I like being able to control my own plans. And not having others, particularly my parents, disrupt my plans for their own selfish reasoning.  And without discussing them with me, either. I feel like a child. Sugar-coating words and coddling me. And I thought I was entitled to being treated like the adult I should be. When will I grow up? When will you let me? I'm not so easily pushed down. Shove me, toss me, push me. I'll get right back up. I'm my own rock. I have...

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Precedence

JournalWord: Bubble gum. :: She blows a pink bubble as she waits for her savior from the dull crowd. Her slinky silver dress sparkles under the undying shine of the chandeliers, casting slivers of light to bounce off the faces of her admirers. They flaunt their European suits and adoration at her like arrows after a scrambling herd, but she dodges their haphazard attempt to ensnare her. They are ready to pounce, but her black, strappy high heels impatiently tap on the tiles, toes facing the exit. Snapping her gum between her wisdom...

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Fried

JournalWord: Chicken :: She cocks her head up, staggering her crown as she stares, unabashed at me through the window. As if to grind my nerves even further, she scratches at the ground with her demonic talons, further tearing apart the head of lettuce she has currently torn to smithereens. Suddenly she flaps her wings widely, ruffling her grey speckled white feathers and releasing a wail to summon her brethren to the slaughter of my garden. Clenching my jaw as my assumption proves correct with the horde of beady-eyed devils cluck maniacally...

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My Love Is Late

Something about me that some have trouble comprehending in general. I don't believe in love. Sure, people like each other, tolerate each other, and then care for each other, in given time. A logical progression that creates an emotional tether. And I understand the magic behind maternal and paternal affection for children, I mean, those cute little babes were genetically designed to be adorable so they could be dependent on others to survive. (Ingenious, really!) It's all quite biological. I'm just a skeptic about this strange figment that...

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Imprint

JournalWord: Branded :: She giggles as she flames the needle point of the pin through the candle light and all I can do is trust her. Maybe I should be a little nervous, I mean, she does seem unnaturally cheery brandishing that pin. Then again, all those pain killers are making me float, so I smile when she scoots closer to me. I don't know what she whispers into my ear before she pierces it, I'm distracted by the shine of her dark hair, but what she says afterwards rings sharper than the action. "You're mine now." :: I'm...

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An Opera Unfolds

This is one of my chapters for a collaboration that a great friend and I are doing. My post with Marie Curie  was also included (with a few tweaks). Also, check out my collaboration partner, JeromeR.Vandamme! He's a fantastic writer! :) Anticipate The Roar :: Shutting the door behind me, all noise ceases abruptly like a wall blocking the notes of a concerto. There are little groups of people packed into the corners of the halls, hushing each other to check over their shoulders before continuing their whispers. Grasping my...

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