Very little can pull Quid away from books and articles and reports. She isn’t fond of TV or radio or movies and video games and board games never hold her long, but the thud of exploding shells overriding her heartbeat gets her every time. She remembers old, worn blankets spread over dewy grass and the…
Tag: creative writing
Tattoos
Tattoo peeks up over the collar of his loose orange shirt, the cuffs slide down over the backs of his hands. The tattoo looks vaguely floral/greenery and curls a little around his neck. Right below his left ear are two stars, much lighter than the half-hidden tattoo. She imagines how her lips would press to…
Playlist 3 – Angry Prose Poem
Playlist: Angry Constraint: Rearrange the words to make a prose poem using only two lines at a time. Comes Day Again Rock me – exactly. Tell the bass to up the me, to step me up. Step upon all my need. Time known in anyone, I always like to not depend. The hundredth everything before…
Gilded
Quid owns very few books due to her almost perfect memory and recall, despite her crippling inability to answer direct questions. She borrows from libraries and reads articles online and spends afternoons browsing bookstores, but she can remember when she was younger the books she desperately wanted to own. The thick, ornately bound, gilt-edged classics…
Douchebag
It’s funny when you see someone and immediately think douchebag. There is no rhyme or reason. Slick looking white/silver framed sunglasses that fit snugly and are razor thin, a cocky grin, and a number 25 Yankee’s jersey open over a dark blue t-shirt. He’s got sunburn bright red along the top edge of his forearm….
Ocean
Quid grew up far away from large bodies of water. She never learned to swim, never went to the public pool (that cost money). She never took baths, only showers. The closest she got to swimming was when Benny from two trailers down shoved her into the pond and she nearly drowned. Water was not…
The Couple
She brushes her knuckles down his front in a soothing manner, her face creased with her smile. Her hand is covered in a soft, white hand warmer that covers everything except her fingers from the second knuckle up. He wears heavy work boots and both his feet are pointed directly at her. One hand is…
Torn
His feet point in two different directions, decidedly braced and he looks confused. His eyes are set deeper and the bridge of his nose is a tall wall between them.
Playlist 9 – Impressions, D20
Playlist: Depressed Song 20: Don’t Wait by Dashboard Confessional Inches Have I ever been truly bare before another person? Completely stripped of all artifice, pretensions, control, and pretty lies? How rarely have I spoken without tempering my words, and tone, and thoughts. Never have I shared the whole of myself with another person, instead I…
Expectations
He’s wearing paint-splattered jeans, black sneakers, and a worn-thin t-shirt with a small spatter of paint on the right sleeve. He speaks with a rough, Brooklyn-born accent, and he has tattoos up both arms, and one on the right side of his neck. Laughing. What’s the matter with you, huh? What’s the matter with you?…
Little Gentian 