Your Painted Reflection

All the effort in the world won’t matter if you’re not inspired Flat greens stretching past visible limitations chained to auburn by unseen growth, a curved azure dappled by bleached veils: a perfect art exhibit.  She sat under a large willow, branches extending down to kiss the grass a very formal hello, dreaming of lovelyContinue reading “Your Painted Reflection”

Friday Fictioneers – Meaning Over Volume

“Where are they?!” they demanded. She stared back. “You’re grounded until we get them back.” The pipe organ began to play, filling the room with sound and drowning out the congregational chatter that allowed her parents’ scolding to fall on deaf ears. Her parents began to sing loudly, but the words meant nothing to themContinue reading “Friday Fictioneers – Meaning Over Volume”

Friday Fictioneers – Rolling Stone

In a town that stood still, I was the boy who couldn’t.  People were born, raised, taught, married, worked, and died in the same town without ever seeing the outside world.  There were never new streets, signs, roads, businesses or houses, only new generations. I couldn’t do it. I can’t have my history repeat itselfContinue reading “Friday Fictioneers – Rolling Stone”

Friday Fictioneers – The Inevitable Cycle

A troop of tanks crushed the forest floor under its tracks: now a squished mix of weeds, dirt, and blood.  The blood doesn’t mix and rises to the top, creating a demolished field of crimson. A soldier sits on a stump of a tree blown over by blasts. “Men’s thirst for power is engraved intoContinue reading “Friday Fictioneers – The Inevitable Cycle”

The Hands of Time, Pt. 2

He went back outside Into the harsh light of day. He constructed a new way to look at the world, Which is why he wore wired rims That that held corrective lenses, But not ones that helped him see closer Or farther away, Rather, lenses that flipped the world upside-down, And reflected the sun’s rays.Continue reading “The Hands of Time, Pt. 2”

Friday Fictioneers – Acclimation

I remember a couple years ago, after getting into a shouting match with my mom’s boyfriend about my report card, running outside and hiding behind the old tool shed. My neighbor, Tom, who’s a couple years older than me, saw me crying.  He came over, sat with me, and handed me a cigarette. “I could hearContinue reading “Friday Fictioneers – Acclimation”