where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
We who see and bleed within our hidden shells as we watch and wait, while those who do purposely water the ever growing seed of hate, blindly circumventing the rules placed down by mothers and fathers, not realising how we are making a joke of ourselves and others, a force filled bottle of urine and …
As the toll of totality chimes, the segmented drawer we keep all things worthy in decays with the passage of time we so desperately count, in hope of one day outliving it ... Matt She smiles, then picks up one of the small nails from the table and gently holds it against the bloody hand. …
Continue reading "Read – Hammer It Home – First Short Story From 2020’s End Of Year Collection"
In the early hours of the morning, on the 15th of December 2020, my Mother released her hold on this mortal coil, and passed peacefully in her sleep. You could say the timing was by her hand, and she was from all accounts pain free, unlike the months prior. She was stoic in every way …
Continue reading "Some Seconds After – A Short Story For My Mum"
The age of time, is not defined by the clock that sits on the wall, but by the weathered lines that crack and grow across thy skin... Matt “A facsimile of a lie is what you are Devon! Nothing more or less. Your existence began with a mistake, and so will that be your end!” …
See the dawn shine, as the new day comes, we wish for dreamless sleep, no images in my head, I was alone with me, my pain something not my own, it was shared about, given to everyone who touched her soul, I was not without, I was lost within a sea, look and find, searching …
Let the images become you, as we see the end of the day, falling into a yearning, giving away the change of what was, and letting it become what will be, a difference in thinking, tomorrow is not for us, tomorrow is only for me, yesterday was a memory. today is soon to be forgotten, …
She looks down upon him and smiles, before looking back up at her. “Will they be happy?” She nods her head in reply, before holding out her hand. “Concern yourself with these no more, this part of your journey is over and I have many wonderful things to show you.”
“And that, as they say in the movies, is that!” she says with a broad smile across her face. “This ain’t a fucking movie Stacy, and I ain’t gonna follow some soulless script, written by a nobody. This is real life, and in real life everyone dies, even the hero!”
The sharpness of words not said digs themselves inside his skull, and as he turns sharply he stops for the first time since he started this walk, or is it finished it, he and stares towards the sea of eyes that stare back. “T-There’s so many of them,” he whispers.
Paganism, youthful wisdom, I saw a hallow man, he gave me three sticks full, I poked them through the mud, I dug up what I thought was clarity, but instead I found out it was madness, your eyes let them know how deep their dick was in, while you mouth worked plentiful hours polishing them, …
writing, writers, & worlds (of my own making)
Refuge of an assumed danophile...
Poetry, Fiction & Photography
My life; My views!
Your daily prompts to spur on your writing
Alternative haven for the Daily Post's mourners!
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!
To live in pretend fame or die in fiery flame. Espresso. Writing. Music. Photography. Ramblings.
K Is Silent k Is SiLeNt K iS siLENT kIsSiLeNt
If you like poetry, short stories, political rantings and/or articles then you have come to the right place.
Poems, Short stories, and more.
Write everyday for 365 days. Fact, fiction and everything in between.
Fan Fiction and Fan Art
so much to say and such little time
A domain for independent writing
Writing in the shadows
By Kel Dayheart
