The District of Never Die

Unfamiliar

2008-11-23T06:42:31Z

438 Unfamiliar Face

An unfamiliar face with an unfamiliar name in a hospital room for the family member of an unfamiliar victim. Yet this unfamiliar face I watch begins to cry and this unfamiliar heart breaks with every tear that falls. An unfamiliar longing to comfort you fills me but it's wrong. You are unfamiliar. I am unfamiliar. And yet I feel that I know you.
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It's supposed to be from the perspective of an accident victim who lost their memory of the time before the crash or whatever happened. Their entire family is in the room with them, plus their husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend but they recognize none of them due to memory loss. However, when they see that one person (h/w/gf/bf whatever) crying, they feel like they should comfort them, tell them everything is alright, but they don't know why because they can't remember they loved this person. The love overcomes the amnesia though and tries to reach out to the other.
Love overcomes all! XD that's the cheesy motif pretty much
For all_unwritten btw.

LULZ A HAIKU

2008-11-20T05:20:32Z

Falling through the clouds
on broken angel's wings,
beautiful sorrow.

...
That was my sad attempt at a haiku.
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An angel's eyes and pure feathers in your hair, you must have fallen through the clouds.
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Both inspired by:
Falling Through the Clouds

Catching Up (About Time)

2008-11-20T05:07:10Z

Time to post my responses to some all_unwritten prompts. I have been responding to some, I just haven't done my normal copy pasting them into the journal here. So now, after responding to today's prompt (or, technically yesterday's seeing as it's past 12:00 am), I shall take the time to refill my journal :)
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424 "Graves"

The graves lay spattered across the field like grey spots on a canvas as she stepped through the gate.

She didn't know what she'd come here for. Besides, it was just a silly dare. Everyone knew ghosts weren't real. But she had to prove herself.

She carried the white ribbon in fingers just as pale, the moon reflecting the color in its essence. She knew where the grave was, everyone did. It was the biggest one there and hard to miss.

The angel's face looked as it normally did, closed eyes pointed towards the ground, hands outstretched, wings folded against her slender be-robed body. But something didn't feel right.

Not for the first time, she wondered why the statue was made to be looking down. Most heavenly creatures pointed their eyes to the sky, their homeland among the clouds. But this one seemed to be blindly watching its detainee, like it didn't need eyes to see what was happening beneath the sodded turf of the cemetery.

All she had to do was tie the ribbon onto the wrist of the angel, tie it tight so it didn't fall off, and she would be done.

Step by painstakingly forced step she read the graves of the dead as she passed. She'd been through here many times, a short-cut on the way to school, but that was during the day time, and that wasn't when it was All Hallows Eve.

Before she would have liked she was standing a foot from the angel. She knew she was six feet above Old Man Fields. She'd seen zombie movies before. She didn't like the rustling in the bushes at the back of the lot. But she tried not to think about any of them.

A cold hand reached for the wrist of the silent guardian, the white ribbon whispering through the suddenly-chilly air. A quick loop and pull and the ribbon was on.

Well that wasn't so bad, she thought to herself, re-reading the tombstone once more.

"Here lies Mr. Timothy Fields, a man to be respected and feared. May the angels keep watch over his soul."

Maybe that's what the angel was doing . . . You don't need eyes to see a soul, souls aren't physical things.

A movement caught her eye as a shadow darted across the stone.

The moon was very bright in its silver halo but she could not see the moon behind the outstretched wings as her eyes came up to meet the chilling gaze of a stone angel.

A white ribbon lay twisted and smeared in front of the grave of Old Man Fields, an angel with closed eyes keeping watch over it forever.

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425 "Help me!" (Back to my old depressing self on this one.)

"Help me! Help me!"

She cried to the sky

but no one could hear her,

so alone would she die.

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433 Photo Prompt

She had never really liked those porcelain plates and delicate wine glasses poised forever still in the cabinets. Needless to say, taking a hammer to their shiny facets brought out the most satisfying noise she'd ever heard.

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434 Libation

Staring at the word wasn't helping. Staring at the wall didn't seem to help either. Staring at the dictionary on the bookshelf next to the wall was definitely not helping. If only she was allowed to use a dictionary. Then this stupid word wouldn't be so hard to define. Who knew what a "libation" was anyway? She was beginning to think her teacher was making up words just for the fun of watching her students fail.

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435 Under the Sun (Hah, if only I'd thought of this for the creation story I had to come up with for my mythology paper - I could have also used it to describe why it rains - the guy's sweat for those of you who don't get the connection - which would be disgusting, but hey, it didn't have to be logical - after all, it is mythology.)

Man, standing here under the sun all day everyday is tough work. I swear I might just sweat to death, but it has yet to happen to my surprise and disdain. But watching you little humans is rather amusing, what with your "wars" and "love" and what-not. Two polar opposites existing in the same space time, amazing. You guys don't know it, see it as "advancing," but most of your actions are insignificant or harmful. I can see Earth wasting away, but you guys still have time. Your generation won't see the end of it all, but most of your stuff in this century has been crap. Although, I must say, those viral internet videos are pretty amusing. I wish I had a ninja cat . . .

*grunt* . . . Damn, this sun is heavy.

Rights and Lefts

2008-11-05T06:27:05Z

Life is not defined by how many rights or lefts you take on those forks in the road, but by how many illegal u-turns you make along the way.

for prompt 420, "rights," on all_unwritten

Unicorns and Bunny Rabbits

2008-10-11T17:49:39Z

   The pretty, puffy clouds were so wispy today. She laughed as a unicorn danced towards the prince, and then frowned when they were replaced by a twisted, twirling dragon. The bunny she was playing with earlier came back and his long white ears stood out against the light blue of the sky. She was watching a princess when the sky completely disappeared, replaced by the harsh glow of orange lights and a solid cement ceiling.
   "Mommy, what happened to my princess?"
   The woman in the front seat just kept chatting away on her cell phone, something about charts and seats and an angry old man who's name was Boss.
   The little girl turned her eyes back towards the orange lights, counting them as they flew by. They looked like big fireflies but their color was off and they weren't as friendly. She was at 7 fireflies when suddenly a loud roar ripped through the dark tunnel. She jumped back into the middle of the seat, her face no longer pressed against the glass. From there, she saw a little yellow car drive by, but it was missing its roof, and there were mean-looking people waving their hands and screaming at the ceiling. She wondered if the dragon was chasing them and that's why they were yelling. Her mother in the front seat just glanced out the window and muttered "stupid teenagers" before talking about Boss again.
   She went back to her window, her nose against the glass as she looked for the dragon chasing the little car. She didn't see it, but that didn't matter - she had seen the bright speck of white light getting bigger and bigger. Soon the big orange fireflies started getting darker as the white light got brighter. She sunk back into the cushions of the seat, her eyes following the edge of the light until it was right on top of her. It was so bright she had to blink a lot before she could see again. And then her bunny was back and the prince had found the princess. She giggled as the unicorn pranced away towards the big office buildings of downtown.

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all_unwritten 397: "the light at the end of the tunnel."

Superman can see through walls! Oh junk!

2008-10-11T16:57:31Z

   "I wouldn't want to be able to see through walls." Ana said, matter-of-factly. "That's an invasion of privacy."
   "Nuh-uh! It's pretty cool! You can see all the people and what they're doing!"
   "Yeah, exactly. What if you were showering and Superman happened to come by and look through the wall?"
   "Superman's not gay, he wouldn't do that." Andrew looked towards his Superman figure next to the dresser. It was right outside the bathroom door.
   "Well then I guess I better start showering with clothes on if you get the power to see through walls."
   "Eeew, like I'd want to see you naked anyways!" Andrew stuck his tongue out at the thought. "And besides, if Superman can see through walls, why couldn't he see through cloth?"
   "Well did you ever read about Superman seeing through clothes? No, that can't happen." Ana followed the thought through her head as it lead to a new conclusion. "I guess everyone should just start making their houses out of cloth then."
   Andrew just glanced at his sister from the corner of his eyes before snorting and walking out.

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OH JUNK, ANDREW IS ANA'S BROTHER! I KNEW IT!
lulz, anyways, yes, if you ever see Superman around, make sure you're not showering or your house is made of cloth. Besides, he can only see through walls, so who's to say he can see through floors and ceilings? Yes, I know, I'm taking that power rather literally, but that's the point ;D lol
And there was no prompt for this one, it was just brought up in one of my random trains of thought as I was thinking about how my shower is right next to the dorm hall way.

Movies and Manliness

2008-10-09T03:17:59Z

     "You can't go home! You can never go home!"
   "Hah! Wow, you actually like these movies? What a bunch of b.s.!" His face never turned from the TV screen as he laughed at the actress warning her husband of his fate and yet mourning their situation at the same time.
   I just turned back to watch the scene play out, knowing his eyes hadn't left the old romance drama film since I had turned it on. He secretly like them too, but was too much of a "man" to admit it.

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all_unwritten 394: "you can't go home."
</lj>

In the Library

2008-10-09T03:07:28Z

   Hearing a gasp in a quiet library is never a good thing.
   "Uh-oh, Ana, look what you did!" His whisper was harsh and condescending as it wafted over her. The book cover in his hands was torn, ripped down the seam in a jagged paper suicide.
   "What?" Her whisper was just as sharp as his as she spit back the accusation. "I never even touched that book! You did it yourself!"
   "Nuh-uh! Nobody saw it, it was you! It was all your fault!"
   "You're such a liar, Andrew. Besides, no one's going to believe you. I'm not the one who's going to be in trouble."
   Fear possessed his features for a second before he could regain his composure and repeat his favorite phrase: "Nuh-uh!" He stuck his head out of the line of shelves, making sure the coast was clear. "You're not going to get in trouble because no one's going to know! We'll just put the book you ripped back and walk away." The poor paper book with it's ripped cover was replaced on the dusty shelf, now marked by that deep, tattered scar. Ana followed Andrew's back obediently through the library and out the automatic doors, wondering if books felt pain.

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all_unwritten 391 and 392: "book cover" and "I'm in trouble."
The boy has a name finally! We still don't know their relationship though. But at least now he has a name.

Original Love

2008-10-09T02:30:59Z

   He had never been the copy cat type. Always the original one he was. When Valentine's came by, he gave me candy corn and a DVD instead of old chocolates, soon-to-be-dead flowers and useless jewelry. On my birthday there was no cake, but giant helpings of fettucini alfredo and some smores in the mountains for dessert. At halloween we scared the little neighborhood kids away and ate the candy ourselves. Christmas was a time for making undead snowmen and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas 20 times in a row. So when enough time passed and we were still completely lost in each other, I wasn't expecting the typical proposal, no down-on-one-knee for this girl. No, his was much more elaborate, very planned out and way more personal.
   We'd gone snorkling. It was our 4 year anniversary. 4 years of dating him and I still wasn't tired of him. My friends said we were crazy. My parents hinted at a proposal, our friends agreed, but I just said we'd get married when we were ready. Apparently he thought we were ready.
   But yes, we were snorkling when all of a sudden out of no where, this giant fish swims right in front of my face. A bright yellow one he was too so it was hard to miss. I almost drowned trying to back away from this crazy thing that violated my personal space. My flippers kicked frantically in front of me. Part of me was aiming for the big yellow blob, but I didn't really mean to hit it. It tumbled in circles through the water until it dropped to the bottom of the reef. Stunned but curious, I followed the too-friendly fish. It appeared I had broken the poor thing in half, but that couldn't have been possible, I only knicked it with my flipper and these little rubber things weren't strong enough to kill something. I inched closer, spotting something dark under one of its gills. It looked like a little metal gear . . .
   And then I saw it. The simple silver band tied to its tail fin. It was absolutely beautiful but I had no idea what it was doing here. Then I looked closer. Written on what I thought was a real live fish was a message: "Marry me, love?"
   I turned as gracefully as possible under water in a wet suit with flippers to look at my now-fiancé. My shocked eyes searched for his through the plastic goggles and I saw the smile there. So it was true! The little mechanical fish from heaven had brought me the ring of my dreams and the boy of my dreams had been behind the fiasco all along. He definitely had a very original take on how to propose - and that's why I love him.

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all_unwritten 388 and 390: "copy cat" and "he knelt on one knee."

Blue Pills and Spaceships

2008-10-09T01:44:21Z

all_unwritten 389 - "he got on my nerves"

   I swallowed the little caplet like a normal pill. It went down like a normal pill. But, in the back of my mind, I totally knew it wasn't your typical, "normal" pill.
   It was blue for one. Who had ever seen a blue bill? Besides the one Morpheus offered Neo in that ancient movie. But that was totally fiction. This blue pill was definitely real, I could feel it as it tumbeled down my throat and into my system. No waking up in my bed for me, with blissful ignorance. No, I was an experiment. I wasn't fiction. And down went the blue pill.
   They said it'd take a while for it to take affect, but that I shouldn't really feel anything, except maybe a bit of soreness or discomfort. That was "normal," they said.
   An hour passed and I sat there silently in the bed, contemplating the meaning of "normal." That was common for a philosopher right? Except I'm no philospher.
   The static in the background morphed, changed into a static voice. Then the voice broke free, sounding small and yet very clear against the silent white atmosphere.
   "-lo? -ello? Can you -ear me?"
   The scraggly man in the long white lab coat leaned over, almost morphing out of the wall he was propped against, to pick up the walkie talkie. His voice was just as weak as his hair, barely there when he answered. "Yes, I can hear you."
   I smiled to myself as he failed to mention me. I was just the experiment, not a person to be included at all. How amusing.
   "I'm in the blood stream. Heading to the spinal cord now."
   I had asked how this was going to affect me, them poking and proding my body from inside when I couldn't stop them, and I remember being anxious. Then they showed me the adorable little blue space ship that would be in the little blue pill and I didn't fight them anymore. It was just too cute.
   Now however, once I couldn't see that little space ship, now that it was inside me and there was no way to stop it, I was anxious again.
   "Whoa, the heart beat just speed up. The blood is rushing much faster now."
   Apparently they could tell I was nervous too. The scraggly man outside of my body smiled reassuringly in my direction without really looking at me. Ah, to be an experiment.
   "Alright, past the heart, heading towards the spinal cord."
   Scraggles lifted the walkie talkie to his weak voice and said, "Remember, be careful."
   "Careful"? Why was he telling the mini man inside of me to be careful? I thought this was going to be easy.
   "Ow! ow ow ow! What the - !" My back arched in a painful jerk.
   "Whoops! hah, sorry. Is she okay? I just hit a nerve."
   I glared at the walkie talkie. "Okay"? "OKAY"?? He was lucky I didn't sneeze him out right now, that little mini man. So he got on my nerves. Literally. Lovely. I twitched a bit more, spasms shaking me as aftershocks of my bruised nerve. I hoped the little shakes were like earthquakes inside of me so maybe he'd be jolted enough to be more careful. But then again, he might run into something else. I tried to stop shaking.
   Scraggles watched the monitor by my head in silence. Apparently everything was looking good. He nodded or grunted every now and then, using phonics as small as the hairs on his head to approve of the situation.
   "Almost to the top," the walkie talkie announced. I assumed he meant almost to my head but there was no way to know. I never had gathered all the info on this experiment. Damn that tiny adorble space ship.
   The static broke through again as a shiver sent goose bumbs crawling over my skin. That wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't cold at all. Huh, odd.
   "Everyone ready out there?"
   Scraggles looked in my direction one more time. "Yes."
   A sudden itch plagued my head. It itched so much, but oddly, it was inside of me, in the most unreachable place ever.
   "Cord is inserted. Switching to manual control in . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1. . ."
   At one, Scraggles blended into the wall again, the walkie talkie spewed static, a voice unlike my own came out of my mouth. And then everything was black.

   I awoke sneezing like crazy, one after another after another. That was probably the most I've ever sneezed in my entire life. My eyes teared up and my chest hurt when it finally stopped. Scraggles was back, separated from his wall again. He was at the end of the bed over my legs with a magnifying glass. It must have looked odd to any passerby, watching a man scour a blanket with great intensity while I sat there rubbing my eyes with probably what felt like the most confused expression on my face.
   The tweezers snapped out like a dragon towards a virgin sacrifice. Scraggles raised his hand slowly, bringing the magnifying glass right up to his eye. The now-giant eye blinked and squinted, squinted and blinked until he turned to the vial waiting on the table and dropped his speck of dust in.
   The door almost closed on his white lab coat as he walked out. "Thanks for the information," I almost muttered when the door clicked shut. Looking around the room, I was left to ponder what had happened to me. Manual control. Hmm. I wonder what he meant by that. Mm, well I wonder how mini man is doing. . .

   I must have dozed off again because the next thing I knew, Scraggles was back with a strange man. He was wearing a blue jumpsuit with giant bug-eyed goggles propped atop his head. They were congradulating each other on some recent achievement.
   "It was amazing! To see the body is such detail, so up close! It's like you'd never believe! And our experiment - " His sentence dropped off as his face glazed over with nothing short of complete awe and passionate connection.
   "Yes. A complete success. Of course, the nerves are going to have to be avoided next time." Scraggles cocked an eye brow at the young man who blushed and scratched his head.
   "Hah, yes. That was a complete accident." Then he turned to me and quickly spoke as he bowed his head. "I'm really sorry about that."
   Oh! His voice! It was the voice from the walkie talkie! Mini man! Mini man was out of me! Maybe that's what all the sneezing was...
   "How did the controls work?"
   "Oh, very easy. It was like second nature working them. All of that practice paid off! How did it look from out here?"
   "You definitely had complete control. I could hear you and her eyes glazed over so I take it you had them too?"
   "Yes, I could see out of her eyes. She's slightly color blind though, she should see an eye doctor about that." He cast an appologetic glance in my direction before continuing the conversation.
   Their voices faded into the background like walkie talkie static. So that's what happened. He had control of me. I wonder what he did with my body. My hands quickly ran across my body making sure everything was still there. Hah, that sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie.
   I remember falling asleep this time as my cushioned head filled with images of time capsules and miniature spaceships. One last thought faded across my mind as the dreams took over.
   That pill was blue right?

Before You Go

2008-10-08T01:54:25Z

   It was night. It had been night for quite some time now. Almost three years now apparently. I had lost count long ago as the days just melted together into one big stream of darkness and stars. It was hard to tell when it was actually 8pm or 8am anymore. A lot of people were beginning to miss work, showing up when their offices were closed thinking they were on time.
   Someone had the bright idea to use artificial sunlight in buildings, using projectors to simulate the sun moving across the sky on a wall somewhere. It was the only way they got to see the sun anymore.
   A lot of people had hope that the sun was coming back. But I wasn't one of them. I knew more than they did.
   I used to think about all the babies born these past years, born into darkness, never to know the light and warmth of the sun.
   That was another thing. It was always cold now. Not too cold, like freezing winter cold, but just cold enough that you needed a light jacket. It was rather aggravating. A lot of department stores ran out of jackets in the first month or so. Shorts and short-sleeved shirts, especially tanks tops, were no longer produced. The cloth used to make them was transfered to the jacket department and now there were long sleeved shirts and jackets made of every material and color possible.
   Fashion had died in favor of functionality. Magazines like Vogue and ELLE were replaced with reports of the latest theories and predictions, trying to explain the current sun-less situation. A waste of paper and ink those were. Not much truth to what the new scientists said. One man even suggested that a wolf had eaten the sun and we had to go to the end of the world to find him and get our sun back. Ha! What a bunch of bull. If only they knew the truth.
   The window started to fog as my breath grazed the glass. It was warm in the building but colder than normal outside. It was almost winter, the news people guessed. They always guessed at the seasons now.
   I could see the traffic flow from my 7th story window, the crowds of people bundled up and huddled together for warmth on their way to work. I laughed at their misery. It was amusing to watch them squirm under my fingers. Too easy.
   I must have laughed aloud because I heard a cough behind me. She must have heard me again.
   I let the reluctance show as I turned, annoyance written across my features. "What?"
   "It's time to leave."
   "I know that."
   "Of course you do. So let's go."
   She turned away and towards the door, grabbing the bright orange and yellow fleece from the coat rack. Her hand was on the door knob when she paused and looked back.
   "Oh, and, before you go, give the people back their sun, please."
   A quick laugh escaped me. So she had known all along.

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all_unwritten Prompt 393, "before you go."

Let Them Go

2008-10-08T01:29:52Z

   The words swamped her. They came out of nowhere and pushed at her brain, her fingertips, her consciousness until it was too much. She had to let them out. They flowed from her fingers like birds from a cage, eager for freedom. And she let them go. It was too much to keep them in. She had tried, many times, but it never worked. They always got out. Sometimes she lasted weeks, the stories brewing and breeding in her head until she didn't want them anymore. Until she had to get them out to forget them. This time, however, she only lasted about 15 minutes.
   She'd fail her test, she didn't care, as long as the words were no longer fluttering like a thousand bats in her head.
   She dropped her pen, stashed away her notebook and wrote. She just wrote, letting the words flow, breathe even, as she let them loose.
   Oh how wonderous it was to let them go, to feel the weight of a thousand worlds fall from your shoulders.
   And that's what they were - a thousand worlds. So many different stories, different lives, different tragedies, different loves, emotions, murders, marriages, battles, judgements. It all came out.
   And she let them go.
   Her children spread like spilt ink, blacking the pages out with their lines of redemption and pain. Soon it was hard to tell where one story ended and another began.
   Her jaw shook with anticipation as she wrote. The pen flew across the page and as she wrote, she read. She read what her mind came up with. It shocked her, some of the stories, but it shouldn't have. It was all about what she was thinking, things she had experienced, her memories. Some of it was angry, almost aggressive. Others were soft, more passionate. But it was all her.
   Her thoughts spilled onto the paper and she couldn't stop it.
   So she wrote and she let the words go.

At the Other End of the Street

2008-10-02T03:14:52Z

   At the other end of the street there's a girl and whenever I see her, she's crying. She waits till her parents leave every morning, watching and waving from her upstairs window. When their expensive little cars turn the corner out of sight, she leaves her window and reappears on the roof. She spreads out and stares at the clouds, tears streaming down her face.
   I sometimes wonder why she cries. Why she doesn't let anyone else see her, not even her parents. She just cries out there all alone, staring at nothing. And other times I find myself crying with her. She just looks so miserable out there, I want to comfort her. But if I even start to say kind words, she'd know I was watching. I've been intruding in her private world and I know it's wrong, but part of me can't stop. She intrigues me, her pain intrigues me, and her beauty captivates me.
   I remember one day I walked down toward her house, making it look like I was taking a walk, keeping her in my peripheral vision. When I came close to the end of the road, she bolted through the open window, her hands clutching at the tears on her face, hiding them in her fingers until I passed. When I got back to my house, she still wasn't on the roof again. I watched as she stuck her head out the window, peering down the road with bloodshot eyes, only to swivel around back into the house as the sound of tires on the driveway reached her alert ears.
   Yesterday she had a picture with her. My binoculars weren't strong enough to pick out the faces but it looked like a couple. She held it above her head and cried. She stared at the people, their smiles and untouchable happiness and she cried.
   It was Autumn and the wind was strong, especially above the houses. A gust of wind fluttered the picture around in her hands and she gave the wind what it wanted. She watched the picture float away and cried. I didn't know if she was crying about the loss of the picture, but it didn't look like it. She just cried.
   Sometimes I wondered if she was ever going to run out of tears, she cried so much. It was an endless supply of salt water emotion and she seemed to control it. Or maybe she wasn't controlling it. Maybe that's why she cried so much, because she couldn't control it.
   I asked my mother about the family one day. She said her parents were wealthy but were always at work. She said the girl was always home alone. I knew that. But what my mother didn't know, what no one knew but me, was that the girl cried.
   It was my secret. It was her secret. It was ours and she didn't even know it.
   One day I wrote a letter to the girl. I asked her why she cried. I asked if the sky comforted her, if the roof ever got too hot, if the wind ever turned her cheeks pink with their fury. I told her about her pain. I told her what I knew. I told her the story of my imagination. I told her of how her prince charming had found her, loved her and left her. I told her of how she followed him. I told her of her defeat at the hands of another woman. And I told her of how she felt afterwards. I told her about all the tears she cried and I told her about the sky, how the blue ocean above was and how the clouds were so fluffy and white. I told her about her hero, the one to save her from her sadness. And I told her about me.
   At the other end of the street there's a girl, and whenever I see her, she's crying. She waits till her parents leave every morning, watching and waving from her upstairs window. When their expensive little cars turn the corner out of sight, she leaves her window and reappears on the roof. She spreads out and stares at the clouds, tears streaming down her face. And as she cries, she holds my letter and smiles.

And There Was Danny

2008-10-02T02:19:14Z

Prompt 387, "along the banks," for all_unwritten
I got the inspiration from a deviation on deviantART, skyen.deviantart.com/art/Uncle-Danny-84842931
That's where all the "ands" come from, but the story idea was original. I kinda made it so it was like a myth since I've been reading a lot of mythology for my class lately. Anyways. I hope you like it.
And.
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   First there was a boy. And his name was Danny. And Danny loved a girl very strongly. And she loved him the same. And they walked along the banks of a quiet babbling brook every day for most of their youth. And they held hands, and they kissed, and they sometimes just sat there.
   And Danny hummed. And he hummed along to the beating of their hearts. And both of their hearts beat in time. And their song was one that could never be erased. And it was beautiful.
   And then one day, Danny waited by the brook for the girl. And she never came. And Danny waited again the next day. And she never came. And so Danny waited a third day. And again she never came.
   And Danny got worried and went to her house. And Danny saw her. And Danny cried. And her parents cried. And the neighborhood cried. And they buried her later that week.
   And Danny was lonely as he sat along the banks. And Danny cried even more. And Danny sat there for so long that Danny became a part of the tree on which he was leaning. And Danny's body slowly lost form. And Danny's heart was all that was left. And Danny's heart became a beautiful flower. And the flower prompted beautiful song from the birds. And the birds sang their song. And the song sounded like Danny's. And Danny's song lived on. And Danny's heart lives on.

Coffee in the Morning

2008-09-30T03:58:54Z

   The sun soaked the hallway a glowing golden halo color as she danced towards the kitchen, humming.
   "The best paart of waaking up is Foldger's iin yoouur cuup! Coffeecoffeecoffee!"
   She turned another corner and almost walked face-first into the little blue mug he was holding. The intoxicating scent of caffeine,cream and sugar tempted her taste buds.
   "Ah, ah!" He pulled the mug away from her grasping hands, teasing a protest out of her. "Not before I get my good morning kiss!"
   A playful smile danced across her lips as she went to hug her husband. Arms out-stretched, she watched him lean slowly down . . . now! She changed her hug into a frontal assult, reaching for the coffee with one hand and grabbing his arm with the other to hold him still. But he was faster. The next thing she knew, her coffee was on the counter behind them, taunting her over his shoulder, and she was locked in a full-on embrace, his lips pressed softly but forcefully against hers.
   She kissed him back and giggled when he lifted her out of their hug.
   "You taste like coffee." Another small laugh escaped her lips as she licked them, laughing at him as he rolled his eyes.
   He smiled and handed her her morning dose of caffeine. "Is coffee really the best thing to wake up to?"
   "Of course it is." She inhaled the fumes before carefully gulping down the warm nectar.
   "Oh really?" She saw the smirk light up his blue eyes and knew he was playing with her. "What about the sunshine and clean sheets? The scent of pancakes and a warm hug? The fact that today's Saturday or the morning cartoons? What -"
   Her lips pressed against his to shut him up. "Alright, alright, haha. I revoke my earlier jingle. The best thing to wake up to is you."

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For all_unwritten  Prompt 385: "the best thing to wake up to."

The Church

2008-09-28T16:49:28Z

Prompt 384 for all_unwritten , another picture entry.

   "What a beautiful night," she breathed, allowing her quiet voice to reach him slowly over the sound of her dress grazing across the stone path. Her white dress glowed palely in the silver moonlight.
   "Yes, but wait till you see the church."
   She couldn't believe this was happening. It was just too perfect, too good to be true. He was going to be hers forever and she couldn't believe he felt the same way.
   He smiled his brilliant smile, and scooped her up into his arms. He climbed the stairs slowly but with a deliberate pace, taking his time to reach the next step both in their lives and on the stairs. She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his sweet scent. The huge wooden door grated easily open in his grip and the church stood open in front of them.
   There were as many candles as the stars across the floor, but all she could look at was him.
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Weeaaaak T_T
I suck at writing romantic stuff.

The Cafe

2008-09-27T15:47:13Z

Prompt 383 all_unwritten

   "What the hell did you just give me?" He tipped the blue mug over trying to find any clue as to what this liquid was.
   "It's your coffee!" she hissed.
   "This sure doesn't look like any coffee I've ever asked for. It looks like liquified . . . Oh nevermind, I won't say it, but I want another cup of coffee. And make sure it's coffee this time!" He watched the cafe doors swing shut behind her knowing he wasn't going to get what he wanted when she came out again.
   He couldn't care less about what he drank; it was just so cute when she was angry.

Money Down the Drain

2008-09-26T20:16:14Z

all_unwritten prompt 382, write about something on your mind.
I have no idea how this came to mind. I was actually thinking about another story based on the A.F.I. song "Ms. Murder" but that's another story entirely. This one, I guess, was prompted by the current economic situation. Not that I think the stock market is going to crash, but you can't deny that we're going into some kind of depression. Gas is expensive y'all.
And yes, I did skip prompt 381. I just didn't feel like writing about a card game.
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   Money down the drain. A dime, a penny, a dollar bill. Down they go like a water tornado into the sewers. Ah, how it felt to be irrevocably rich. You could bathe in your money, sleep on your money, toss your money out of the window and still there'd be more. It was like being a kid in a candy store. Even if you dropped a little gummy worm, there was another waiting to replace it. Oh how secure it feels to be so secure.
   Sitting in his money bath one day, soaking up the green paper scent and reveling in the coolness of the coins, he flipped on his giant flat screen HD TV with every channel imaginable. The last channel he got to was the news, the chipper anchor suddenly turning grave as his eyes probed her sexy, slim face. He thought about how her skin would feel, how soft her hair would be, what she looked like without all that make-up. He was imagining her in his bedroom when something she said caught his attention: "--stock market crashed today, Wall Street is going under. We may be experiencing the beginning of another Great Depression."
   Her lusciously red lips continued moving but he couldn't hear anything she said. He gripped the edge of his porcelain tub, grabbed the mink robe off the towel rack, and began to search his entire mansion for every little dime, nickel, penny he'd ever dropped and hadn't bothered to pick up, because at the time, he'd thought he'd never need them.

Misery and the Mirror

2008-09-24T19:46:20Z

Prompt 380 for all_unwritten "I'd never done anything like it before."
Another slightly depressing one. I don't know why it's depressing though, it doesn't reflect my mood at all. Today has been a relatively good day . . . hmm, oh well!
The title was a bit random.
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   I'd never done anything like it before. No, wait. . . it was more like I'd never felt anything like it before.
   I had done something like it before but I had meant to that time. I wasn't on the receiving end of my wish, so I just recognized my side of the mirror, not what could have been on the other side. I was happy so I thought they were happy too.
   But this time . . . oh how I wish I could take those words back now, but three wishes was all I got. And now I regret it. You know how they say "be careful what you wish for"? Yeah, well, I hate that phrase now. It's so cliche but now I know the truth behind them. Heaven knows I just had to learn it the hard way. And now you're gone and my genie's gone and I'm now on the other side of the wall.
   Misery sure does love company but there's no one left but me.

T_T

2008-09-23T22:05:06Z

all_unwritten Prompt 379, "you're wrong."
I have an inkling that this has something to do with Ana and her odd male counter part but I'm not too sure. And please excuse the face at the end. That's the only way I could adequately show you what the character thought about the answer.
------------

"The sky is blue."
"You're wrong."
"Oh? Then what color is it, genius?"
"It's azure most of the time, other times it's cerulean, and sometimes at night it's sapphire."
"T_T"

Le Sigh

2008-09-23T04:59:30Z

AN ENTRY TO CATCH UP TO ALL_UNWRITTEN, AND TO EXPRESS MY CURRENT REAL LIFE SITUATION.

Prompt 376, picture prompt:

   The mushroom ring had taken a hold of her backyard. First she thought it meant something like a mushroom cloud, that the world was going to end if it stayed there, but then her father told her an old legend that the mushroom ring was a gateway into the elfin kingdoms. He said fairies danced in those circles and sometimes, if you were lucky, you could watch them.
   She stayed up that night, lying on her window sill, hope keeping her awake. But hope wasn't enough and exhaustion soon took her small form as she fell asleep. She dreamed of fireflies and fairy rings and dancing with the elves. She dreamed of blue, clear skies, her father's face, and the mushroom cloud. She dreamed of her mother, an angel's wings, and a rainbow. She mostly dreamed of fireflies. They spun around in awkward circles, blinking in and out, their wings beating furiously to keep them aloft. They twisted in tight circles and spun around one another, but never seemed to make a mistake. It was a very delicate procedure, and yet it seemed so effortless. Their forms never left the fairy ring.
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It's awkward and feels unfinished. I was going to say something about the little girl watching the fairies, the fairies finding out and taking her back to their world, and her dad finds her dead in the morning, hence relating it to the mushroom cloud, but I thought that might be a bit too morbid. And I lacked the motivation to write it anyway.
Prompt 377, "tie dyed T-shirt"
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   She read the list out loud, trying to grasp what her sensei really meant when he wrote the words. "Tie dyed T-shirt, nylon string, and some duct tape." Now how the heck am I going to kill a man with those? Stupid eccentric old man.
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I changed it from when I posted it to all_unwritten  At least this way it has a bit more substance than someone reading a list and asking wtf to do now. It's still a stupid and pointless response though.
Prompt 378, "when there's nothing left to do but . . ."
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   He'd reached the point in time when there's nothing left to do but pick your nose and wait for the end to come. Who cared if they saw you doing something indecent? The red balloons had filled the air; the town would be dust soon anyway, and no one can remember what you did when they're all dead.
--------
Reference to "99 Red Balloons," a song about a nuclear war (I think). Random and pointless and no one will understand it as usual. I accept that.

   My writing seems to reflect my mood, and I guess it's supposed to.
   School isn't going too well for me. Apparently I'm doing worse than I thought I was. I'm very stressed, and there's nothing I can do about it. That and I haven't gotten a good, full night's sleep in a long time. You can't really help it when your roommate has 50 billion alarms set before yours, makes a lot of noise while you're trying to sleep, you have class early in the morning, and your weekends are spent trying to sleep in to no avail. Goddamn alarms.
   But yes. I am very stressed. And my current situation saddens me. So please excuse the morbid tone to the stories, because it might be like that for a while.

The Invert Key

2008-09-18T20:08:29Z

It only took a second to change everything, and yet, as she hit the invert key, it remained black and white.

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Prompt 374 of all_unwritten "it only took a second to change everything"
Have you ever noticed that? Like, if you have a black and white picture and you invert the colors, it's still black and white? I know that's kindergarten knowledge and what not, but it's just weird. Everything looks different, but it's the same picture, the same colors, and maybe you can see a bit of the imperfections in what you're looking at.

Ghosty-Ana-is-Ghosty

2008-09-17T15:15:20Z

"Ghost's aren't white! They're see-through! Jeez, Ana, why can't you get things right?"

Well it's not like I have a see-through sheet!" Ana cried, lifting the pale ivory linen off her head and tossing it on the sidewalk. "And besides, Awesome-Man doesn't even exist! Your costume is lame!"

"No, it's not," he said, his lips curling into a Cheshire smile. It's awesome."

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Prompt 373 - "white as a ghost" all_unwritten
LOLOL AWESOME-MAN
Poor little Ana just can't seem to get away from this nameless boy. . . I wonder if he's her brother o_O
Most likely, haha. I've heard brother's could be annoying, especially if they're younger than you.

Please Excuse the Expletives

2008-09-17T00:31:37Z

     "Shit, shit, shit, shiit!! It's too early! It's too damn early!"
   John pulled away from his binoculars to turn towards his friend, not even 10 feet away in the bunker. "What, man? What do you see?"
   "The damn bugs!" Juice never even took his eyes off his equipment. That took too much effort and panic took away comprehension. His hands shook as he gripped his sniper riffle, his right eye planted to the ocular at the top.
   Staring at the soldier next to him, it took John a second to grip what was just said.
   The bugs. The bugs. The goddamn predators were coming. . .
   It was too early.
   Or maybe it was already too late.

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Prompt 372: "it's too early."

and now for prompt 371, "deluge":
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"'Deluge?' Wtf is that?"

"It means flood." Her eyes flashed in his direction, annoyance tugging at the edge of her lips.

"Well then why don't you just say 'flood?' Why the hell do you always have to be so high and mighty and go all superior-vocabulary on me? Jesus Christ Ana, I swear."

She glowered at her Cheerios, her knuckles as white as the milk in her bowl as she struggled with her anger by taking it out on the spoon. If only he was a cheerio. Then she could eat him and he'd shut up.

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Hah, I don't normally cuss at all, not even in real life, but I guess that I could argue it's not me cussing, it's the characters speaking through me. . .
<_<
>_>
XD
It's true though! Even my english teacher says that. When referring to something in the text, you say which character said it, not that the author said it, since the author didn't actually say it, it was the character. If that makes sense.
But yes, please excuse the expletives!
I like both of these stories btw, haha.
For all_unwritten

Catching Up to All_Unwritten

2008-09-14T22:42:24Z

Prompt 368 - "like ants"

Like ants upon an upturned cake, my love for you is attracted to the sugar of your insides.
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Prompt 369 - "the curtain falls"

It was definitely an old house - old and abandoned. There were cobwebs on the stair well, vines climbing the side of the house with complete disregard for curb appeal, the paint was faded and chipping, and the door was leaning off its hinges. The inside didn't look much better. Boxes were huddled along the walls in stacks, pictures either lay broken on the floor, the nails they once hung from protruding from the walls, or still in tact, climbing to interior paint for dear life, and there was a layer or two of dust blanketing everything. The inside of the house looked like a black and white picture of an old Victorian parlor, except it was supposed to be in technicolor.

Walking into what we assumed to be the living room at one point, we stopped in the doorway. This room didn't look any different - the gray dust was still the dominant feature like everywhere else in the house. Here though, instead of boxes and old fixtures, the dust covered huge white sheets which in turn protected some type of furniture.

Lifting each cloth carefully as to not disturb our allergies, we folded the dust into itself, revealing the furniture one at a time. First a chair, then a matching couch, then an old radio in the corner next to a giant bookshelf, empty but for the spider webs.

Then we came to what we anticipated most - the big hunching blob of white sheet and grey mass in the corner. Upon closer inspection, it actually wasn't a sheet, but a rather large curtain. A sheet apparently wasn't big enough to protect the precious thing underneath.

Slowly, each of us took a corner. Grabbing the dirty, ragged ends, we lifted at the same time, and brought the curtain over the top positioning it so that none of us could see what was behind it. Then, on cue, we dropped the edges, and as the dust erupted into the air and the small amount of light made them shimmer, the curtain falls to reveal our prized possession looking like brand new.

Thank god time had not taken a hold of it like everything else in the world.
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Prompt 370 - "just for now"

Just for now,

can we watch the fireflies dance,

and not think about our problems?

Just for now,

can I love you like I was meant to

and not worry about what they'll think?

Just for now,

can I lie in your arms

and feel your sweet scent around me?

Just for now,

can you love me like I love you,

without the lies?

Just for now . . .

can we make "just for now"

into "forever and ever?"
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I'm being rushed off by the pizza people, so I'll make this quick:
1. for my bf :) i know it doesn't really make too much sense, but it means <3
2. a rushed story. the thing at the end can be whatever you want it to be, but when i was writing, i was thinking of a piano.
3. rushed again . . . completely fictional though, just an fyi

All responses to prompts on all_unwritten