On the evening Sara dropped by to pay a surprise visit to her older friend, she found that the clean, organized home of her artistic friend was quickly becoming an unorderly pile of clothes, books, and random objects thrown together on the floor, by the sofa, between the bedroom entrance and the fireplace. read more »
Category Archives: Writing
-In the charges of contract breach and violation, the jury rules in favour of the plaintiff, with a penalty fee fixed at thirty thousand dollars to be paid by plaintiff within twenty days. The defendant is hereby ruled to relinquish all rights over the property of the plaintiff, including all non-material property such as composed music. read more »
Lindy closed the door behind her without a sound. Her older son was fast asleep in his old bed, the one he had grown up in. read more »
Dragging her feet over cold, barren soil that led in the form of a narrow path to the small church, Mary followed the calling of something more powerful than her conscience into the tiny building that was warmed by a mere few heaters placed around the altar, and lit by a few dozens of candles, tokens of zealous gratitude by the newly found reverence of the citizens of Bodeford. read more »
January arrived with vicious blizzards uncustomary to Bodeford. It upset the lives of its citizens, who for days did nothing but struggle to come to terms with God’s new form of punishment for their real and imaginary sins. read more »
She slowly turned to face a ghost, smiling at the power of her fancy and that of her will, which had fought and defeated the improbability of Joshua actually standing there in front of her. read more »
When it was over, she stood up with the rest of them, blindly clapping for the man she dearly loved. She watched his haggard face from behind the shelter of someone standing in front of her, his not so much humble, but rather resigned gestures of gratitude. read more »
Oh my god. I had a completely different plot but something happened and triggered this- this whole new set of events and I am just as excited as hopefully you guys. LOL. read more »
…finally, here is the update.
It’s not cloudlessy happy, but it is one step forward from hell.
Thank you all for reading!
The way his hand had grazed his cup of coffee seemed so careful that she wished she could be invisible. Her son had been subdued and apologetic that morning, despite not uttering a single word to let her know he was sorry. She suspected Eileen had talked to him earlier on, and she had felt so sad for him, and herself, too. He was not to blame, but she couldn’t blame herself, either: even though she knew it was all her fault, she had to stay strong against self-remorse if she wanted to survive. read more »
I believe, this was the deepest she could have gone.
If she went any further, she would not be alive now!!!
I know you’re all impatient to see how the story will go, but I needed to write this chapter. Short but important one.
I won’t say enjoy… but endure! Stuff to happen shortly, promise!
*hug* read more »
Dinner was consumed in a profound silence broken only by cutlery meeting plate, food being masticated slowly, and the funny, but universally accepted noise of wine trickling down human throats. read more »
It came as it always did, uninvited yet expected, the clear start of a new day, a clean sheet to veil the dark events that lay behind him. His eyelashes were sticking his eyes shut, and he had no intention of opening them: why get up? read more »
He saw her sitting at her desk when he stepped out of the elevator. In her white top and a sophisticated bun on top of her head, her long-nailed fingers holding a receiver, her lips parted in talking. She was a sight to behold and he stood for a few moments, until she finished the call, and watched her, a step further from the elevator to keep it from opening and closing automatically. A tress of her hair fell lazily from the tight bun and floated next to her ear. Her nose seemed pointy and so did her chin. Those full lips moving quickly, from a smile into a professional pucker, back into a smile and an understanding squeeze. She could be anyone, really, only using her lips. read more »
He had noticed her on a summer evening. He still remembered it vividly, as he was just preparing to step up the stage after his walk through the crowd when he saw her standing there. Silently, almost invisibly. She was not moving like the rest. She was not reaching her hands to grab him or touch his shirt. She was merely looking at him, into his eyes, with a very sad and gripping smile. read more »
His eyes scanned the crowd in the darkness. Standing motionless above them all, waiting for the music to start filled him with excitement and nervousness. What will they think of it? Will they appreciate it, or think of him as a conceited prick? read more »
(Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, though the two characters are taken from real life. It probably never happened, but then again, it might have. In any case, it is what it is, FICTION.)
Memories of you
They were soon going on stage. Again, the two of them together. This time, she was older, and he- he had matured. read more »
Time stood still as she watched on, immobile and scared. This could not be happening. How did they get there, to that moment of urgency, where decision hung heavy as rich velvet, threatening to fall, but also to be transformed into something endlessly more harmful. She pinched her arm to wake herself up- it could only be a nightmare. read more »
The plains of her infertile soul lay endless in the landscape of her existence. She performed the daily rituals that enabled her to go through with her life, but she did not feel anything. In her possession she had everything most people only dreamed about: a place to go to bed at night, a job to provide her with financial security, a true and loyal soul mate, friends who accepted her every whim, and a loving family. Yet she was unsatisfied. read more »
The news came in a crow’s song and on a butterfly’s wings. Have you heard he was in town, they asked each other excitedly. He came to us, he came to help, we have to go see him. They scurried across the bare plains and empty streets, regardless of what they were wearing, not caring about their appearance or what they had to stop doing. read more »
“Dedicato a chi ha sempre una speranza
Davanti ad un dolore nel freddo di una stanza
Dedicato a chi cerca la sua liberta…”
It all seemed clear to him as he was walking the path of sorrow and solitude that led to his favourite clearing; amidst all the tall trees that scraped the skies, it lay round and perfectly set to greet the rising sun. An October breeze was softly playing with his hair, and a just awaking sun was casting warm kisses upon his cold cheek. He had been walking for what seemed like forever; he had walked past monster-trees that wanted to grab his flimsy being, past invisible ghosts of the night manifest only in sound- the cracking of withered branches, the hooting of a lost wild beast, the almost inaudible whispers of a full moon, the swish of clouds that threatened to steal its pale silvery light. He had roamed the grounds of his long lost innocence, getting closer to leaving it all behind, with each step taken feeling the coldness of the fall, like the translucent veil of death, envelop him. It had been a beautiful day, the last day of his existence. He was grateful for it, and he ambled at a leisurely pace across dead leaves and future new lives under them. He believed that every death leads to a birth, and he wondered what kind of life would sprout from his passing form. He hoped to be the ending to a very noble and gracious new beginning- but looking back at his life, he doubted he would be. Nevertheless, it was decided, and he felt calm. read more »