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A time to write
THe rain came down in gulps and gasps, in-between the sound of air being pushed again and again against water. It made the house seem buoyant, floating in the early night. Inside safe and tucked away in bed he wrote as he had not for a while. Listening to the world splash around him and the hum of a laptop fan keeping electronics cool. He wrote and ( Read more... ) -
What else was left?
The leg was weak and aching as he trudged down through the road. The pain reverberating through each bone to centre on the knee. It didn't always hurt like this, he wanted to think to himself. But all the while with the steps he took he had a clenched grin. So he walked with the knee aching and sore, a reminder of the previous days - and with each ( Read more... ) -
Sparks of words
He tossed another log into the fire as the green beep of his phone alerted him to another message ( Read more... ) -
When's the next moment
A drop inbetween here and there and an enternity of silence ( Read more... ) -
You haven't ever
You've never felt the rush of a heartbeat that's going way to fast, as your hand goes to the waist, the beats go up and up. They keep going higher and higher till the moment and dophamine drop away. The exhiliration of that closeness, the sparkle of those eyes and the warmth of that body. ... You've never met that ( Read more... ) -
The words took him then
In their quiet little way. They came and chipped at his senses, his eyesight, his limbs and strength until there was nothing left. He stumbled for days until he could feel his feet, the cold seeping into bare feet long grown deadened to the feeling. Still there was something there, some far off neuron sparking up his mind again. Until that is the ( Read more... ) -
Back a bit
It's strange to have the 5 minutes to spare to this little journal. Stranger still to leave so much out. Times do change, and my writing with it. A strange 21st century thought.
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Not letting it flow too much tonight. -
Temp thoughts
Would you want a sexual predator ( Read more... ) -
Banishment
There was a weight to the air that hinted at the onset of mould. Of rich water drenched air ready to lather and baste any closed space into a fungal explosion. It did not cause the prisoner harm, the heavy air only settled him into a deeper doze. The air released with each breath the only freedom he could ever enact ( Read more... ) -
The wanting sound
The words no longer sang, with the clack and click of plastic keys on springs, there was no thrumming of narrative. It used to thrumm through with the light of the day, at 8 on the train. Now though, now there was just the midnight wonderings, and a single bulb flicking artificial rays across the room. It didn't fill him, it was just as mechanical ( Read more... )