Break From Reality. Daily.
I’ve always heard death was supposed to be peaceful, ya know? Like a drifting off to sea or something. You remember those old war movies? Even those who had suffered the most violent offenses always passed in the arms of a platoon member. They would die uttering some phrase of epic proportion, and they were…
Move! Let me out—I need me out of my head With ricocheting thoughts threatening to shred My identity. I dodge them; they tear through My hundred dollar shirt—the obscenity. Who decided upon these formal duds? My body aches for the scent of mud, to feel It caked on my hands would be pure ecstasy, But…
“Me muero diaramente,” he read aloud. Then releasing her wrist, he furrowed his brow and stared at her hard, “What does that mean in English?” She jerked her hand away and rubbed her fingers ferociously over the black writing. For the first time since she got the tattoo, she regretted it. But she couldn’t stand…
The blue Malibu coasted down 67 carelessly, weaving in and out of traffic and proudly parading the white chalk on its back: Just Married, Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Weber. The driver, an adventurous blonde, smiled stupidly at no one in particular, seemingly in a phase of euphoria. As she drove down the freeway, love songs…
At church on a regular Wednesday night, my sister and I sat on the thick green carpet as close as we could get to the stage. While I had chosen my seat so that I could listen to our speaker, Mr. James, my sister had other motives for sitting so near to me as she…
The following story is by guest contributor Kayla Dean. You can find her writing at her blog (www.kidean.wordpress.com). If you like this piece, go and check out her book: Muted. Click here to find her book. (the image above is by Stephen Boisvert found via Creative Commons) Hot tears scorched her cheeks. Her eyes blurred, causing the black…
