I feel the brush of dewy leaves as I run in-between the woods.
Running, I can see flickers of brown and orange in my side view.
Running, I can smell a foul odor around me.
My mind asks "should I stop?"
I look back, he's there.
The pale rider.
He's far behind in the shadows, but that can soon change.
I can hear the hooves of his beast that he is
So I push forward.
I guess when it comes down to it I'm too scared to stop. ...
I pushed my way through the faceless crowd, those who surrounded me became a blur.
I do not remember where I was going, or how I ended up here all I remember is dying and waking up in someone else’s body.
I took a quick intake of air into my heaving lungs. I could smell my own fear, the sour scent of sweat and the smell of perfume.
I felt like
a wet dog with my hair so damp it stuck to the nape of my neck.
I squared my shoulders and tried on a smile. But I am sure my face took on a sickly shade of green. And my smile was more of a grimace. My gut twisted itself into knots
A figure stood in the shadows.
I pretended not to see it.
I quickened my pace but I did not run in fear of drawi...
I picked it up immediately without looking at the caller id.
"Hello?" I said while I continued typing on the laptop and putting the phone in loudspeaker. "Blaire? It's already late. Aren't you coming home, still?" Melody's voice emerge from my phone. She is my roommate slash best friend. "I still need to finish this report
for tomorrow's meeting. I'll be home in about-" I checked my time, "Twenty minutes."
"Oh you better hurry because g- part-." Her line was suddenly cracking up. "Melody, I can't clearly hear you. I'll call you when I'm going home." I ended the call.
Being the assistant editor at a magazine corporation is tough and I'm working on this project that I need to p...
Ava sat at the kitchen table, her math book and graphing calculator by her side. She was wearing headphones, but they weren't working right so she could hear her mother vacuuming in another room. She hated when her mother did that, and tried not to be home when her mother did the weekly cleaning, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. She liked doing her
school work in the kitchen. She could shut off the overhead light, and just use the natural lighting through the windows to see by. It was so much easier on her eyes and didn't give her a headache like the lights in the other rooms did. Her parents were understanding of her dislike for certain lights and kept saying they would change the bulbs to something better...
She was startled hearing those words, clearly and firmly spoken, over her shoulder. She turned to look.
This was the old man she had noticed striding along the walkways in the park. She often went there to sit on the bench and gaze at the ducks in the water. As she did not want to be distracted or disturbed by anyone she
always chose a bench close to the water, with her back to the walkway. She would sit for hours lost in her miserable thoughts and utter loneliness. She had however noticed him. He looked very old, with a thousand wrinkles on his face, but stood tall, straight and trim. He had a briskandsteady walk. She found that very unusual. He had smiled at her every tim...
and then it stops. and it's quiet now. somehow fellings of calm and unease both exist inside of you, but dont mix together. like oil in water.
you made it, you're here.
But what now? this endlessly long journey, what was it for? you came all this way for what, a light? some artificial hope in the emptiness of it all, grafted into this bleak reality like
a plastic toothpick in a nonexistant haystack.
the light is cold, and you shiver under it's sickly green rays. but everything else around you is colder, swallowed by black, so you settle in. slowly sliding down the pole of the streetlight, you sit down, staring ahead. the void. the nothingness that has held you in it's arms, nurtured you, and taught you it...
Cars of varying quality line the parking lot, with the rich and the poor walking alongside. Many take seat in used vehicles, cars that have existed for over a decade and run on pure luck. The bumper remains attached by only a sliver of duct tape, and when started, the rattling can be heard for what seems like miles. Next to it, however, is a vehicle sleek
in design, a model from at most three years ago with a shine that glows like a television commercial. There is barely a scratch of its surface. A man takes a seat, but he and the car seem to come from opposite worlds. This man, he lives five blocks down in a tattered apartment building that has been set for demolition for many months now. The soles of his s...
“This is tedious,” complained Tebogo to his father as they drove through the reserve, “Why do we have to be here?”. Tebogo already knew about his father’s job, but he was hoping for a more specific answer. His father, Dr. Zander Adams, was the top biology professor at the University of Cape Town and had gone into the field to collect data for a
Once Tebogo was done, Zander replied, “I know you’d rather be back home with your friends, but your mother and I didn’t name you ‘resentful’. I thought that this would be a good opportunity for you since you’ve never been to Kruger before. I would say that you should take this time to look around since you might never see anything like this ...
Walking so beastly beautiful Victorian East side she had the sixth sense hearing the Gothic music.The flower shops caught her eye the fast pace of the people going to work.What a soulful smell music sounds to her ear of Black Dahlia. Besides the faintly illuminated shapes stood out tasteless Hanging upside down bat orchids. You could smell ethnic flavors his
eyes Jalapeno red hot erotically altered her into something that she could not escape. When the Saint's come marching sinful his wife madly driving Miss adultery played through her mind. How his eyes playing and observing like a womanizer and his blood shot eyes flew vampire haunting blood the moon. But Samatha the harp tree lady stringing something togeth...
I am a strong believer in other worlds. Alternative universes created by time travelers, our alternate selves living out experiments. Parallel worlds of our reflections. Skewed worlds where time flows backwards.
There are so many universes possible. Our neurons are like the stars and galaxies. We all live with a different perception of the
Others say I'm crazy. Delusional, fanatical, whimsical. I play along, and so I don't care. I'm perfectly fine "living inside my own mind," as they put it.
But I don't understand how they don't feel it.
It's 4 a.m. right now. In some cultures, "four" means death. For me, it is peace.
At night, my mind is clear, but the boundaries become blurred.
There was once a cook called Grethel, who wore shoes with red heels, and when she went out in them she gave herself great airs, and thought herself very fine indeed. When she came home again, she would take a drink of wine to refresh herself, and as that gave her an appetite, she would take some of the best of whatever she was cooking, until she had had
enough;—"for," said she, "a cook must know how things taste."
Now it happened that one day her master said to her,—
"Grethel, I expect a guest this evening; you must make ready a pair of fowls."
"Certainly, sir, I will," answered Grethel. So she killed the fowls, cleaned them, and plucked them, and put them on the spit, and then, as evening drew nea...
There was once a shoemaker, who, through no fault of his own, became so poor that at last he had nothing left but just enough leather to make one pair of shoes. He cut out the shoes at night, so as to set to work upon them next morning; and as he had a good conscience, he laid himself quietly down in his bed, committed himself to heaven, and fell asleep. In
the morning, after he had said his prayers, and was going to get to work, he found the pair of shoes made and finished, and standing on his table. He was very much astonished, and could not tell what to think, and he took the shoes in his hand to examine them more nearly; and they were so well made that every stitch was in its right place, just as if they ha...
In times past there lived a king and queen, who said to each other every day of their lives, "Would that we had a child!" and yet they had none. But it happened once that when the queen was bathing, there came a frog out of the water, and he squatted on the ground, and said to her,
"Thy wish shall be fulfilled; before a year has gone by, thou shalt bring
a daughter into the world."
And as the frog foretold, so it happened; and the queen bore a daughter so beautiful that the king could not contain himself for joy, and he ordained a great feast. Not only did he bid to it his relations, friends, and acquaintances, but also the wise women, that they might be kind and favourable to the child. There were thirte...
There was once a woman who was a witch, and she had two daughters, one ugly and wicked, whom she loved the best, because she was her very own daughter, and one pretty and good, whom she hated because she was her step-daughter. One day the step-daughter put on a pretty apron, which the other daughter liked so much that she became envious, and said to her
mother that she must and should have the apron.
"Be content, my child," said the old woman, "thou shalt have it. Thy step-sister has long deserved death, and to-night, while she is asleep, I shall come and cut off her head. Take care to lie at the farthest side of the bed, and push her to the outside."
And it would have been all over with the poor girl, if...
There was once a sweet little maid, much beloved by everybody, but most of all by her grandmother, who never knew how to make enough of her. Once she sent her a little cap of red velvet, and as it was very becoming to her, and she never wore anything else, people called her Little Red-cap. One day her mother said to her,
"Come, Little Red-cap, here are
some cakes and a flask of wine for you to take to grandmother; she is weak and ill, and they will do her good. Make haste and start before it grows hot, and walk properly and nicely, and don't run, or you might fall and break the flask of wine, and there would be none left for grandmother. And when you go into her room, don't forget to say, Good morning, inste...
Near a great forest there lived a poor woodcutter and his wife, and his two children; the boy's name was Hansel and the girl's Grethel. They had very little to bite or to sup, and once, when there was great dearth in the land, the man could not even gain the daily bread. As he lay in bed one night thinking of this, and turning and tossing, he sighed heavily,
and said to his wife,
"What will become of us? we cannot even feed our children; there is nothing left for ourselves."
"I will tell you what, husband," answered the wife; "we will take the children early in the morning into the forest, where it is thickest; we will make them a fire, and we will give each of them a piece of bread, then we will go to ou...