I like light. I like the beauty of it, and the way it brings beauty to other things. There is no day more pleasant to me than a cool day, with a gentle breeze, where the sun shines down unhindered onto green grass, giving it a vividness it would never know by itself. Today, on … Continue reading Light
Tag: Prose
Fractured
There is a girl in his life. He believes that he loves her. Or rather, he believes that he could love her, if only he could be a bit more sure of her. She lives on the other side of a wall of imperfect glass. It is clear, but in the way of a crystalline … Continue reading Fractured
Wallet
There is a wallet sitting by my bedside. I bought it online. I thought that it looked nice. It is made of wood: a curiosity. Every other wallet I’ve owned is made of leather, or an imitation thereof. I was drawn to this wallet because of the novelty, and also because I like things that … Continue reading Wallet
Her Own Creation
She lives in a cloudy glass sphere. Through its walls, she catches brief glimpses of the world outside. This is enough, perhaps, to give her a vague impression of it, though it cannot be said she truly knows that world. She knows only her sphere. She knows they way her own voice echoes inside of … Continue reading Her Own Creation
Two Planets
Picture two planets, rotating together around the same sun. They don’t know of each other, for that effulgent orb that gives them life also obscures their view. They are balanced, like ends of a spinning rod, forever kept apart from one another in both thought and distance. Each planet thinks they are the only one … Continue reading Two Planets
Outside
Benji has long had a complex relationship with “outside.” It’s something he has always struggled to put into words, because his feelings don’t fall easily into nice little checked boxes in the way that he categorizes them for most things. That’s the comfortable way, to him, to be able to easily say “I hate mangoes” … Continue reading Outside
That’s Enough
I had a hard time, today, coming up with something coherent to write. Mondays are my hardest days of the week to write, because generally, I've taken two days off of writing at that point and it feels like all the pathways to writing have crusted over a bit in the interim. I started to … Continue reading That’s Enough
Avoidance
Before him is a wall. It is not a wall of brick and mortar, nor a wall of stone, or plaster, or wood. It is a wall of nothing. It has form because he believes it has form. It has substance because he believes it has substance. If forced to describe it, he would say … Continue reading Avoidance
The Book
There is a book from which almost everyone has read. Like every book, there are those who have started it, but have yet to finish (and who may never finish). There are those who have skimmed casually through the whole thing, but failed to absorb the more important details, or who failed to remember them. … Continue reading The Book
To Be Happy
This is Callan’s house, and Niall does not live here, but by the way Niall commits himself to washing the dishes, you would not guess it. There is silence between the two for now, though Niall’s stiff, straight back and the angry vigor with which he scrubs the dishes, when paired with the defeated … Continue reading To Be Happy
Daydreams 