A small, moderately true story, to make up for the lack of a post this morning: As with all people, I am occasionally ill. I feel like I become ill rarely, but that it tends to linger for quite some time. Once, I had a cold which began in my throat as a creeping, thirsting … Continue reading The Snot Mother
Tag: writing
Responsible
Today's entry is short, but it touches on delicate material. There is something she talks about to no-one. It is a thing that she did, or — a thing which was done to her. She makes no distinction between the two, most days. When she does, it is her who is responsible for the action. … Continue reading Responsible
Whispers, Part III
Whisper in the Night Whisper, Part II.5 I jumped awake to the sound of someone knocking on my door frame. In the haze of my return, I hadn’t slid my door shut. No matter. If I had, and it was my father who had discovered me here in bed, I would have been in even … Continue reading Whispers, Part III
Whisper, Part II.5
Whisper in the Night Whispers, Part II This was originally meant to be part of the same entry as II, but unfortunately I ran out of time yesterday. My apologies for the brevity of both. This was, obviously, a weak plan. I had no idea how she operated or what the mechanics were of her … Continue reading Whisper, Part II.5
Whispers, Part II
Whisper in the Night In the first few groggy moments of the next morning, as my tired brain crawled up into waking, I knew that the night before had been nothing but a dream. The events were just too far removed from what I generally experienced as reality. There was no way that what I … Continue reading Whispers, Part II
Whisper in the Night
It began with a whisper, barely audible, which echoed just at the edge of my perception. It seemed to be a part of my dream, though as the voice became louder and clearer, I forgot my dream entirely. It drew my slowly out of sleep with the same smoothness as the morning sun. Gaede. I … Continue reading Whisper in the Night
Incomplete
Junette felt incomplete, as though there was a large piece missing right out of the center of her that had never filled in as she had formed within her mother’s womb. It was not painful, not like a cut or burn or abrasion, but it was uncomfortable, like when something’s pressing on your chest and … Continue reading Incomplete
Beyond
Three by three by three. Three to link. Three to strengthen. Three to transport. That’s what I remember. That’s what I learned in school. It’s what I talked about with... With me? With Ayra. But I am Ayra. But I am Caél. But I am... Me. Us. Nine names. Which am I? I thought it … Continue reading Beyond
No Word for Goodbye
In a public space, like this café, there was no real privacy. At any moment a person that they didn’t know could view them, sitting there together, sharing their time. If someone made the effort, he could lean over and hear the contents of their conversation. Yet of course nobody did: their conversation wasn’t that … Continue reading No Word for Goodbye
Puzzle Box
He opened his chest to show her his heart. She did not react as he expected. Among the line of people to whom he had revealed this part of himself, none had reacted in a positive manner. He was used to polite grimaces, or blank stares, or even disgust and irritation. Most of his partners … Continue reading Puzzle Box
Daydreams 