short story

[zoso0iv]

            His mind tends to wander.  Staring out the window, a short stretch of road littered with pot-holes turns a corner into the horizon.  The entire world hides behind that corner.  As far as he’s concerned, the world barely exists.  His sanity was under attack.

Dirty, knotted brown hair, the same brown color of the coffee with

Comments

[tlphn_wires]

if you wrote that you have some fucking talent man

[zoso0iv]

i did. thank you.

[obituary72]

this...you can do.

[meta_tarsals]

His cigarette is too loosely packed and every other time he ashes, the ember falls in a tiny shower of sparks. A small fireworks celebration for whatever may be living in the floorboards.

Humans throw shit at each other too, only we call them ideas. Words.

Imagination died when the world got too real, when we were able to kill thousands of souls in a single nuclear blast and not even think twice about it.

All of those without power are afraid to gain it. All of those with power are powerless to it. Everything is so much more beautiful when it’s dead, we just don’t notice. Life isn’t too short, it’s way too fucking long.

those are my favorite sentences, plus the entire last paragraph. this is excellent, geoff. i don't know how many times i've said this, but you have a brilliant, brilliant mind.

luv u.

[19thamendment]

Holy shit, Geoff.

There were some extremely accurate observations going on here, many that really spoke to me personally.

The line about all of those with power are powerless to it, we let ourselves down when we realized we were more than just animals.

This short story felt... cleansing. Please write more.