Saturday, October 29, 2011
As
Thursday, October 27, 2011
:)
Happiness is catching
It's spreading all around
It reaches out with welcoming arms
And never lets you down
The Joy Disease is spreading
It's moving like the breeze
It's blowing through your hair
And giving you shaky knees
If you see someone smiling
Do not be alarmed
It's one of the many symptoms
And it's aimed at you, so warm
I've got The Optimism
And I believe it's contagious
So stand extra close to me
If you're that courageous
© 2011
She Smiled
It was said that a witch lived in that house.
...it was an unforsaken building, smelling of death and decay.
I’m not sure why we went there.
I said it was empty, but Jimmy insisted there was a ghost.
“There’s no such thing.”
“There is,” he held, “and one lives there. She’ll slay you with her deadly
poisons; laugh as your eyes roll to the back of your head.” I rolled my eyes.
But I glanced back as we walked away…and I saw a rather insalubrious
looking woman pulling back the curtain, who smiled at me before I ran.
© 2011
Written for a hundred-word scary story contest with seven required words. SUPER DIFFICULT.
The Fountain
When I began to step out of the fountain, I saw a shadow. I froze, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest as if I was listening to it with a stethescope. I'd thought I was alone. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I was soaked from head to toe. How could I have been so stupid? If I was going to take part in such moronical behavior, I might at least do it at night, when no one else was wandering the campus. ...Maybe I could drop back down into the water. I could hide behind the ledge, and maybe the person would continue on their way and never even notice me. Before I could put this to action, though, the shadow moved, and a figured stepped out from behind the corridor wall that I thought would protect me so well from any possible onlookers. As the figure stepped into the sunlight pouring into the small courtyard, I realized it was a boy. He blinked at me as if I was the oddity in this situation, which I wouldn't deny if he were one of my fellow pupils or a teacher; but his presence in this courtyard made even less sense than my presence in the fountain. "Oh," he said, "um, hello." I blinked right back at him, "Hi." He looked confused as he motioned to me and pointed out, "You're...you're, um, wet." I furrowed my eyebrows and pressed my lips together, nodding. "And you're a boy." He laughed, and also nodded. "What are you doing here?" I asked. He grinned, "You get straight to the point, I see. What are you doing in a fountain?" I shrugged, "First of all, I'm only halfway in the fountain now. Second...I was in the fountain to get wet." He tilted his head back and forth, "I suppose that makes sense." I crossed my arms over my chest, "So why are you here?" He grinned, "I was looking for the Headmistress." I narrowed my eyes, "Why?" He smiled like he knew I wouldn't like his response, "She's my mother." My face went blank, and he laughed out loud. "I can tell you like her." He glanced behind him as voices echoed through the corridor off to the left of the exit to the courtyard. Classes must be starting, then. I hadn't heard the bell chime. But, then again, I never did when I was in the courtyard. I came here frequently– to read, to rest, to swim. The boy looked back at me, "I guess I better be going, then." I nodded, glancing over at my bag on the floor to the left of the fountain, "Me, as well." He bit his lip as I stepped the rest of the way out of the fountain and grabbed my bag, calculating how much time I had to change into dry clothes before the first seminar if the ten-minute bell had just chimed. "Do you come here frequently?" he asked, looking around the courtyard. I slung my bag over my right shoulder and shrugged, "Yea, I guess." He nodded, and started to walk away, but then I continued, "Wait–why do you ask?" he looked back at me and I paused, and then added, "Will I see you again?" He smiled and said, "Probably. I'm fond of sketching and you're–" he cut himself off, and then improved upon himself, "that's a beautiful fountain." He turned, then, and walked away, and I blushed as his shadow disappeared, and stared down at the water droplets dripping from my hair onto my feet.
© 2011
Because We Haven't Spoken In A While
- Blackout by The Indie Kollection
- We're Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes
- Chinese Translation by M. Ward
- Hang On by Dr. Dog
- Time Pops Bubbles by Little Grey Girlfriend
- Psycho Killer by Talking Heads
- Cult Logic by Miike Snow
- Fake Palindromes by Andrew Bird
- Laughing by Hooded Fang
- Ghostbuster by Ray Parker Jr.
- No One's Gonna Love You by Band of Horses
- Once In a Lifetime by Talking Heads
- First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes
Monday, October 17, 2011
the doorknob
I hear the door click, and I take several long breaths, inhaling the stench of dog urine and newspaper ink, before I snap my head up, breathing deeply as I stare at the door. It's so close, right there, I could reach out and touch it if I had enough time. I close my eyes and suck in my lip, taking in another sharp breath and letting it out slowly through rounded lips, so that it sounds like an autumn wind rushing off to rustle leaves. I hear the footsteps outside the door growing fainter, and when a second, farther door clicks shut, I open my eyes. The doorknob is perfectly round and glistening silver as if it has been recently polished. It's dented on the right side, an indent the size of a large, brawly man's thumb; and I assume that's what it's from. I saw as I watched the man exit the room that the doorknob turns swiftly and allows the door to quickly pull backward so that one might burst through the doorway dramatically and startle those people sitting on the other side. I don't need to do that, though, all I need to do is pull it open enough to crawl out and behind that box I saw, and from there it will be all downhill.
I stare at the doorknob with determined eyes for a moment before closing my eyes and breathing deeply again, coaxing myself like the Little Engine That Could. My eyes fly open and I jerk my binded hands up quickly behind my back, not stopping when they're at the level of shoulderblades. I hear a pop and I scream bloody murder, letting my arms collapse again and panting like I've just run eight miles, tears falling out of my eyes like marbles rolling down my cheeks. My back burns like I've stepped into a furnace and I wonder if I've broken anything. If only my feet weren't also chained down, I could turn and scoot backwards to the doorknob...
I close my eyes a third time and command myself to breath evenly to no avail. I'm about to try to pull my feet out from under me, chain and ball and all, when I hear footsteps again, and the doorknob turns.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Donor Child
it's been a long time, but...
i just needed to talk to you
i know you don't...know me...but...
i just needed to hear you breath
i don't expect you to love me, but...
i couldn't live my life wondering
i don't want you to call me...but...
here's my number anyway
© 2011
If
Fire/Flames/Blaze/Burning
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Lost
I kept walking even after the trail gradually faded away. It was cold and I had forgotten to bring a coat, but I ignored the chilliness and pressed on. I was aware of the famous sameness of all these trees and of the complete lack of any unique landmark. But still I pressed on. I came to a stream with no convenient rocks to pass over, but I didn't have time to go searching along its edge for a dry way to cross, so I stepped in and ignored the sloshing of the water in my socks as I came out and kept walking. As I moved, the adrenaline of exercise began to wear off and my muscles started to ache, every part of my body begging me to stop walking. When I was six, I had gone hiking with my dad for the first time and after walking for about five minutes, I started to complain. After about ten minutes, I was crying and begging my father to let us go back. Since then, I had hiked so many times and so many long distances that ten miles felt like walking down the driveway to get the mail. So this aching feeling came as a surprise to me, and I began to realize for the first time how far I had walked, and how long it would take to get back, even if I was able find the trail again, which I now seriously doubted would happen. I stopped walking for a moment and sat down, running my hands through my hair. I was exhausted and it was getting dark and I really was cold, the hairs on my arms standing up, but none of this seemed to matter. All that seemed important was moving. Even as my body cried, longing for me to stop, my heart and my mind told me don’t stop, don’t stop, keep going. I put my head between my legs and tried to force some sense into myself, tried to convince myself that walking even farther away from the path was a bad decision. But the weaker part of me asked: what good would turning around do now? It was dark and I was lost. I would never find the path either way. So I got up and kept walking. When it started to rain, I closed my eyes and yelled at myself internally. As I lay on the ground, freezing, I finally told myself what an idiot I was being. But then, just as I was about to close my eyes and give in to sleep, I heard that sound. My eyes shot open and my heart started pounding in my chest, harder even than when I had first leapt out of my car and into the woods so many hours ago. I felt warm water on my cheeks as I stood up and moved towards the sound. And there, finally, there he was. My father, laying on the ground, moaning. And I sat down and put his head in my lap, thanking the Lord for letting me find him.
© 2011