At the Speed of. . .I was having the cashier dream again. The food actually felt pretty real. That's all I could think about. Beep. The sounds were different, though. Beep Beep. "Error Correct." I didn't remember there being screeching and snapping before. Beep. Beep. Beep. "Will that be all?" I was in my pajamas. Why? Because this was a dream.At the Speed of. . .
"Roaghurghle." Then there was a snarl. I finally looked up and before me was what I could only guess was a gigantic, spider-faced fur-coated beast. My eyes wide, I tried to think of something apologetic, because I can't stare. I shouldn't stare, but I feared what would happen if I looked away. The creature pu
Deities Wear a FedoraA brisk wind, chill from the night, began its decent into dawn with one last caress over the grassy hills and plains. With a determination unseen by the human eye the fierce current blew, dancing and twisting as waves crashed upon the ocean front. With it were carried leaves, turning, rising and falling, untamed by invisible threads which seemed to draw from the Earth itself.Deities Wear a Fedora
The air was salty, fresh on the ground as blades of grass worshiped with trembling chorus. The earth swayed. Shoreline approaching, leaves of gold and red swirled helplessly in the current only to be beckoned into a tight vortex. The Sun rose and in th
AcceptanceShe looked at herself in the mirror, the scissors lying in the sink still warm from their use. Dana didn't recognize the figure in front of her; it was her intent. Her black hair, the soft tresses which once tickled the skin at her midriff, was now lifeless on the wood-paneled floor.Acceptance
Alan stood behind her as she ran her hands over the cropped hair. What was once long and luxurious was not short and silky. "It's different," he said. She was silent. "Is this way of escaping the fact that she's looking back at you right now, that you look even more like her since she went through chemo?"
"She never cut my hair. It wasn'
| I'm a pseudo-intellectual writer with a penchant for the pen. I suffer from writer's block often and fight for my words, which make them that more powerful for me. I'm working on writing Horror stories this year apparently, and perhaps I'll have found my niche if I have one. |
Look at me
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"get a nice set of tooth marks and you'll actually have something WORTH worrying about!"
Marx.
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This user is not a natural formation.
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