A collection of stories#1A Night’s ExodusA collection of stories
One glowing night’s rumination led me to a lovely conversation with a towering tree. We spoke of George Washington and his bumptious friends and the bittersweet nature of our time. Apocalypse was insinuated in the falling of the leaves to smoldering embers and the crackling of their dissolution as our words echoed in our moment’s own infinite abyss. Vanquished from the mind were the thoughts of worldly tragedies all too common for the minds welfare. Left for ruinous tumult were the thoughts of human ignorance that would too quickly drive the mind to anger. The lingering thoughts available for the minds i
ShadowsIn this place of shadows I reside as my mind dwells in the entrapment of self-loathing. The air is brisk, so brisk in fact that it burns the nostrils and throat and makes the eyelids frigid in their blinking. It’s not searing though, as most people would assume. Mark Twain was wrong when it came to his views on climate and mistaken when it came to company. It’s a place of solitary confinement, there are no others. That’s the lie the bible tells, nothing ever changes, it’s the same thing. Just a blink of the eye.Shadows
Timorous is all I’ve become, the assertiveness of yesterday has been taken as if sand by the tide. Perhaps it will bec
DeathOnce I was told of a man. Not a hero like Beowulf nor some mythological God like Hercules, rather just an average man. An average man who wrote a note, an ultimatum to life. He wrote a demand, though it was closer to a simple plausible plea, he wrote that he would walk the 2-3 miles distance to the San Francisco Bridge from his apartment and on this journey this jaded man wrote that he had but one wish, that he desired but one smile from any passing person on the way. If no smile was to be found on such a fated day then once he got to the bridge, he inscribed onto paper that he would leap to his death, yet if just one person smiled he promiseDeath
Once Upon A TimeOnce upon a time there was a girl, but really more of a child. Life had disseminated her hope too widely for her to ever gather it again; she was a broken toy cast aside by a new trend. She habitually carried a thermometer in her pocket to check her ever decreasing temperature. Today she was 93 degrees, the day before she had been 94 degrees, the following day she had no hope for anything but a bitter 92 degrees. Like clockwork she became colder.Once Upon A Time
She pitied the statues and all the relics of history. She hated Mona Lisa with her constant glass case, her protective guards and her ever gawking array of visitors. She always loathed
--
No matter how deep the darkness, a light shines within.
--
spotts
--
spotts
--
I am the Oceana Proeliator! I will vanquish all that opose me!
--
spotts
welcome to dA
--
spotts
Previous PageNext Page