He was the most beautiful man I ever saw. Sleek red hair. Freckled shoulders. Thin face so sad to break your heart.
And his voice, oh his voice could bring you to tears.
He was singing for nobody but me. We were all alone in the dark dank cave. All alone. He reached out for me with his swooping song.
Realized then that I was dead. Dead and this redhead was calling me back. Back into the world where he was waiting for me. His hand reached out for me.
Life or afterlife? Love or death?
I grabbed hold. His hand so warm, soft and alive in my own.
(A man stands in front of an ATM and slides a red credit card into the machine and puts in his number. The ATM tells him it’s an invalid pin. He groans with frustration and then hears a loud click and feels something hard push against his spine. He turns around and sees a masked mugger standing behind him.) MUGGER: Don’t be scared but I’m about to rob you. GUY: (smirks without looking behind him) I know that gun. Is that a .45 semi-automatic? MUGGER: That’s a very good guess. How did you know? GUY: I could feel it. MUGGER: No. Really? GUY: That’s a bit too much gun. Next time I’d suggest a snub nosed .38. Quicker on the draw. MUGGER: That’s a good suggestion, I’ll remember that. GUY: Is there anything I could do for you? MUGGER: I’d like to have all your money, please. GUY: I’d love to help you, but I can’t remember the pin. MUGGER: Oh. That’s alright. Take your time, we got all night. (MUGGER #1 hears a clicking sound and feels something hard push against his spine. A
Who would have thought the years being locked in a cage would be the happiest time of my life?
I used to dream about gliding- my wings spread wide as I rode the breeze over a horizon that went on forever. I would wake in the dark and scream out in frustration, hoping that someday I could sing my real song.
The nights became longer and the dreams became unwelcome. You see, when I'm too caged in, fantasies are more like nightmares, taunting me, teasing me; a blatant reminder of what I can never have.
Freedom.
It was all I wanted. It was everything.
I escaped the first time the opportunity presented itself. Barreling through the unlocked door, I
The Child and the Unicorn by PeterCaliver, literature
Literature
The Child and the Unicorn
Rain crashes aloud
Onto the green, dancing grass
Inspired by wind
And the heavens play earth like
An elegant musician
A restless, roaring sound across the plain
A vivid, shining gold upon the mane
The being does thunder loud, whilst quick it sprints
The horn is facing up, while bright it glints
The legend moves bravely, wild and free
The creature prances swiftly, joy and glee
A thing with one unlikely readable game
A being with one sincerely truthful name
The unicorn
An awed child did visit once a day
The growing youth would travel quite a way
And then a while they would both laugh and play
And then a time they could both speak and say
&
Ahmad rode his horse Na Chuathu as it walked the dusty roads north of the Purva Ghat Mountains, holding his long Korean dangpa spear erect in its holster. His serrated, curved, and split Indian sapola sword was strapped to his saddle within easy reach on his left, while his ancient Chinese crossbow was on his right. His helmet reflected the intense sun while holding in the heat. The pairs of parang throwing knives strapped across his chest were within easy grasp. The unusual belt he had his sarong tied under had an Indian katar shaped like a single claw as the buckle. The well-oiled and many-curved Malaysian Kris dagger was attached to his ba
The dim light from the candles threw shadows across the spacious room, its warm yellow glow bringing a sharp contrast to the dark blood-red color of the silk linings of the poster bed. The furniture in the room was scarce, but each piece was a mammoth size. The intricate gold detailing on every item was done to perfection, its elegance befitting the status of its owner and sole occupant of the room who currently sat in front of the dresser.
Facing the large mirror, her fingers dragged the brush through her long wavy pink hair, smoothing out the small tangles that had popped up during the course of the day. She appraised her reflection as the
My Life Working in an Interstellar Superstore by Domus-Vocis, literature
Literature
My Life Working in an Interstellar Superstore
My Life Working in an Interstellar Superstore
By Nathan Hopp
Life inside a space depot required a will to survive. And keep yourself sane.
Waking up had to be the hardest part of a typical cycle. I was in-between that realm of optimistic dreams and dull reality, with the latter eventually becoming the definitive pull. After clapping for the morning alarm to cease, I stretched myself out of bed and prepared for today. I showered, put on my company uniform, and exited my cramped personal quarters.
8:00 am.
Clocking in, I got to the floor immediately.
“Welcome to Constellation Enterprises, your interplanetary wholesale friend,”
The ghost was back.
Bootsy fixed it with her green-eyed glare. It spotted her and froze. A standoff, then.
"Aww, whatcha doin' baby? Didja see a bug?" Bootsy's human came in and scratched her behind her ears. Bootsy almost gave in, caught herself starting to purr, but she stopped. This was important. There would be time for scratchies later. She flattened her ears and flicked her tail, a signal her human had learned to read as "Don't bother me."
"All right. Have fun with whatever you're doing."
The ghost broke eye contact to watch Bootsy's human leave. Bootsy let out a low growl. That seemed to be enough for the g
The house was deep in the woods- no roads in- I had to walk about two miles through dense, dark forest to get there. It was massive, a sprawling mansion that was covered with crawling ivy. The place was surrounded by great big oak trees, all of them filled with bright red leaves, the fallen forming a vibrant path right to the front door. I stood at the gate, a wrought iron monstrosity with sharp spikes on each tip and I shivered at the sight. It creaked when I pulled on it and the metal groaned as I forced it open. The wind blew strong as I stepped through, the fallen leaves swirling around like flaming ghosts.
I knew then there was somethi