She stares at me with bark brown eyes seething with icy deceit despite their warm color — like the forest surrounding her home, alive and bright, and yet a horrible mockery of it. Those eyes are sharp, poking me with needles, though the face around them is soft, yet to lose the baby fat.
Long, mousey hair cascades down from her crown, heavy and thick and limp. It’s dry. She washes it too often, wanting to put on an air of being put together, but it soon becomes greasy with how frequently she runs her hands through. She’s got more…
I remember the day the little girl opened the box. The smile on her face.
“Be careful, dear,” says the old woman who bought me from the second-hand store. “She’s fragile.”
“I will, Grandma.”
The girl gently lifts my crossbar and my strings go taut for the first time in years. She wiggled her hand, but she became frustrated that I wasn’t moving the way she wanted. The old woman puts her hand over the girl’s, helping her control my movements.
She moved my face up and frowned. “Oh, she’s cracked.”
“That’s alright, dear. She’s still pretty, right?”
1990. Two teenagers, bored, hormonal, neither one with a healthy relationship with their parents, looking for they-don’t-know-what in each other’s arms. Dr. Feelgood giving them a prescription they’ll never be able to untake, oblivious to the change they’re making in their lives. But right now it doesn’t matter because they’re alone and it’s quiet except for the pounding of the drums and the scream of guitars coming from the speakers. A pack of cigarettes and a lighter bounce on the bedside table from the vibrations, waiting for them to finish. …
The first time I saw him, he was a baby, asleep in his carrier. I stared, thumb in my mouth and my floppy bunny in my free hand. I don’t even know why I remember this. Most people don’t recall memories from the age of two. But this one sticks for some reason.
I remember putting down my bunny and waddling my way over to my room. There, on the dresser sat another little rabbit, much smaller than mine. I loved both rabbits. I loved rabbits in general. …
My mom once told me that I used people. That I would get what I wanted from them and then not even talk to them. I don’t know. I’ve never felt like I was using anybody. I am grateful. I’m just not good at expressing it in words.
I’m not good at expressing anything in words.
I’ll get up and make you dinner. I’ll walk over and give you a hug for no reason. I’ll make sure you see the doctor and that your clothes are clean and your hair is neat and your teeth are brushed. Even if you…
A gift to the human race.
A sin against Zeus.
For that he is chained.
An eagle eats his liver,
Regrown every day.
’Til Heracles shows,
Searching for golden apples.
Knowledge for freedom.
Strong giant Surtr,
The great king of Muspelheim,
Comes at Ragnarok.
Under his shining sword
Burning the world clean.
The sea takes over.
Renewing the world, vengeful,
For Freyr lay slain.
Okami hiding away.
The world in darkness.
It’s Susanoo’s fault.
From her cave, so curious,
Laugh to entice her.
Mirror shines, cock crows,
The sun is brought forth again,
The pile of laundry in the corner stared at me, demanding to be washed. It had been weeks. I didn’t know I even had that many clothes. I should really cut down on my closet.
Bzzt. Another thing added to the list that kept bouncing around in my head. Go through the clothes. Wash the clothes. Clean your room. Take a shower. Go for a walk. Do the dishes. Eat. Fucking get up! Do something!
Bzzt. A thousand electrons bouncing around the atomic nucleus of my consciousness at supersonic speed coalescing into endless static.
My pills are right there in…
We don’t know much about black holes. A vacuum-void of darkness that swallows everything around it. And nothing that has crossed the dreaded event horizon has ever come back as far as we know.
So when I was offered the chance to study the leftover corpse of a star, I nearly went supernova myself.
We’d discovered one close by. Close enough to get to via a year of quantum jumps. There was a small planetoid on the outskirts of the gravitational field.
We were only supposed to be there a year Earth-time. Not very long as far as research missions…
I’ve never believed in luck. It was always something else.
“Some are just born under a lucky star,” I’ve heard. Some people appear to have life handed to them on a silver platter, but chances are you don’t see the times when they aren’t so lucky. The times they tend to keep hidden in the background.
Others appear to be playing with a pair of loaded dice. Manipulating the world around them becomes second nature. All it takes is one low roll for the cheater to get cheated. Everything they’ve “worked” for, all of it, comes crumbling down around them…