generations of worshippers
kneeled whispered and wore the
dome of their cathedral down
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generations of worshippers
kneeled whispered and wore the
dome of their cathedral down
He looked over the people in the grocery store: a mother feeding her child… a group of chatting schoolgirls… an old lady arguing with the sales person, her husband patiently waiting nearby…“Wicked Jews! You took our land!” passed through his mind as he pressed the button on his explosive belt.
I like this one.Quote:
Originally Posted by lavendar1
It brought a smile to my face…and I wasn’t in the mood for smiling.
Thanks Lavendar1. :)
I had to be there again. I went in the night. My bones were cold as I drove alone over the forgotten hills to Marquette Lane. Into the forest I stepped, and silence sealed me in. Then I found it, the very spot. Over sacred leaves, I wept.
He loops his arm around my waist and guides me onto the porch. We sit shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the brick and cement square. I lean on him and let out a sigh, his scent mingling with the January – but too warm to feel like January – air.
In his bedroom, the man sat straight in the chair by the open window that overlooked a black, cloudy night. He had a small wooden inlaid box on his lap.
The man thought he could get rid of the memories by simply burying them.
The underground parking structure was dark. The five levels where kept cool by a system of cold water running through pipes pumping their contents through the entire underground structure. The first floor was filled with pens containing goats, chickens, and bicycles.
The couple entered looking for help. With their car abandoned just a mile away, they were stranded. The house was dark, not lived in. The assumption that because no one lived in this house meant there were no residents was to assume too much. The door slammed shut from the wind. It was jammed, maybe locked. The youngsters were the newest residents.
A yellow brown snake shone, a bright exclamation point in the moonlight.
The bird, smelling of dust and black, landed next to what she thought was the rippling gleam of water.
The snake's teeth failed to catch the bird; its smooth gums slid over the bird's scaly leg as it exploded into the sky in a flurry of blurs and feathers.
The snake relaxed back into his tight coil, patient as still water.
...
Okay, that was 73 words, do I get a penalty?:biggrin5:
He can hear them coming. The foot steps are heavier now then before. Their breath is so close he can touch it. It's so deadly quiet.. Any moment now, "DINNER'S READY!" Little Johnny puts down the gamepade with his sweaty hands and dashes towards the peoppori pizza.
The dying rose fought his death, convinced he was the only figure of beauty. Until one storming day, the clouds broke and the sun beamed upon a sprouting tree. The dying rose then knew, that beauty was not his alone to hold and he took his final breath.
I listened to a cucumber as I ate Elvis for lunch. The aliens are looking for me, but he was tasty and it was worth it. So much for him still being alive. Why be ordinary?
As he walked into to the court, he looked perfectly calm. Still, inside he was crying, for ignorance and stupidity of man. He spoken calmly, but he seemed to be cold-blooded killer. As he was stated guilty, he only sighed silently. In his last days, he had only one thought: Why?
And while he sat down to the chair, finally one tear dropped from his eye.
"Are you listening?"
"Please, why are you ringing me?"
"Because I chose you....."
Her ragged breath like static on the line then dead air as she hangs up for the thousandth time.
Behind her faintly lit window he sees her staring into the gloom before walking back into her kitchen.
I was baptised, married, and burried: always with the priest to see it through. Who ties his shoes in the morning?
I lost my brother in the water when I was very young. I see him sometimes in my dreams and he is still a boy and he looks very beautiful and he is standing on the shore. I ask him to come out onto the boat with us and he never does.
It's not very good, but here's my try...
The girl was crying tears of fire, and they rained down on the earth like gunfire. The people ran from her, but they could not escape her violent sorrow. When the earth was completely burned only one man remained, her lost lover, and he sat in smoke, waiting for death.
As he sits silently staring out of his window, the air outside suddenly turns moist. He then knows where his tears have escaped!
I lay staring at the stars through someone’s broken roof. It was silent - too cold for crickets to chirp. Just my thoughts and those bright balls of burning gas. I leisurely drew fictitious constellations. A celestial body was growing quickly. I propped my body up on my elbows. Asteroid. (50)
Startled by the boot kicking the door in I jumped from my chair and yelped 'What!'
'Give it to me or I'll shoot!' barked a gruff voice
'Give you what?'
'The box!"
'Oh that,' I blinked. 'This is 46. You want 64 around the corner...'
'64 ya say?'
'Uh huh.'
Suddenly he remembered his Aunt Betty as if she were asking him a question. She was not his favorite relative, but her face was concerned and he told her it was OK. Don't worry about it. And then she left.
Days later he would find out she died that morning.
''I posted the letter sir''. ''You sure Wilson I have yet to receive an answer''. ''I assure you the letter has been posted''. ''It damn better be.'' ''I have a bad taste of manure in my mouth.'' ''Strange it's unusually still before the blackness''. ''Your eye fell out sir.'' ''Damn''.
The cabin was supported by cinder blocks and underneath lived a snake. Today it was sunning itself on the step until Jane almost crushed it with her foot.
As she drove off, wondering how to kill it, its head could be seen turning, following her drive away.
The gunman stood in the shadows. His trigger finger was nervous. He could be a cowboy or a gangster, a soldier or an assassin. It really doesn't matter. What he is, is up to you dear reader. This story is yours not mine. Just say that he hit his mark. (50)
There were four of them before the dog got off his chain. She flew to a branch, but there was no time or room for the others.
She spent two days thinking about this before she slowly, fully aware of what would happen, walked up to face the dog alone.
Holding the knife with her dominant hand, wrapping her grip around the handle with forefinger on the spine, Karen points the tip to the smooth yellowish surface. Working through initial surface resistance, she punctures through. She applies a second slice of the knife and serves me a piece of cheesecake.
His face was mischief as he withdrew the tray and held it out in triumph. A baked tart with my name on it, a small thing perfect and sweet.
I thought he had won me already but now my insides felt like hot jam and I was his completely.
Steel of green, yellow beak on top
night crawlers eating soil
no backbone
easy prey as they break soil
but all in vain
when....:confused5:
I believe man is altruistic.
Even the flea would find that hard to suck on.
At least we are not alone.
I do not understand any of this, do you think I am senile?
It might be the best condition to be in at this stage.
Ouch damn they're everywhere,
Jane was a good shot. Their hunting cabin was finally paid off when she was diagnosed with cancer. Treatment would be expensive.
She went to the cabin alone, positioned the rifle barrel in her mouth and worried that she'd somehow miss, but she was a good shot.
She asked him if the marks on her legs were stretch marks. “Stretch marks? Are you mad?” he proclaimed, questioning her perception of her own skin. “Hmm, I guess it’s just my skin being weird” she said as they tucked in. As the lights flickered off he grinned.
For some reason, Sally told her boyfriend Bill what might happen in Atlanta this coming weekend when she would be with George.
When she returned, Bill asked her if she did it. Sensing his anger, she said, "I'm not saying what happened." Then, for some reason, she admitted she did.
She entered the small library, warmed only by firelight. Book in hand she sat in her favorite chair by the fire. She turned her gaze towards the window and noticed the first stray snowflakes of winter begin to fall. She smiled and could not imagine a lovelier evening.
Their coffins lay together. They loved eachother more than life. I satisfied them both.
The meadow was splendid. “It‘s beautiful, isn‘t it?.” He walked straight past, a knife in hand. “John, I love you” she said. He looked through her, to the sun. Looking down she saw the crimson smudge on her lacy shirt, and the invisible shadow of her frame.
“The results came back, the fingerprints were his!”Suddenly, the guilty became innocent, and the innocent lost hope. “Three years in prison…” was all he heard. Grinning, he thought back to the lab. He would have to thank Marty for those gloves.
Nice format. Like a stretched out haiku. Could lend itself to alot of really stoopid four or five line absurdities.
Paul had the right idea
He typed out the ad to be placed online "diamond necklace for sale, box still sealed", then hit the send button. He turned the ipad off with one hand while waving at the bartender with the other, "another one of these-double".
He asked about his fear to write. The old man said. "To begin is the movement that is needed, straining your ears in the silence, a leap of faith as they say? As an acre of virgin sand awaits your footprints, the blank page awaits your words".