It all started with a simple kiss. Two sets of lips coming together, finding comfort, finding arousal, and finding joy. In that moment the universe shifted. In that moment time stood up and paid attention, elongating because of the gravity of that kiss. That one act changed everything. That’s why I now have your blood on my hands. I wonder why the universe created the two of us at all. It must have been some cruel joke, something to amuse the masses. And to think I had thought we could have had it all. Instead, I say goodnight my Juliet.
What do you do when the well is dry? What do you do when the magical waters of inspiration seem to dry up in the withering heat of sleep deprivation combined with the relentless winds of work? You could give up and let the stories inside of your wither and die in the drought, or you take out your emotions and begin drilling deeply, looking for the gusher. You might break your story once or twice, but you keep drilling. How long does it take till you hit that liquid gold? I don’t know. Maybe about one hundred of them?
All it takes is a simple word, no, and yet you cannot say it. You hate being put in this position time and time again. It seems every time you go looking it is there, staring you in the face. You try to deny its existence, but it is always lurking just behind closed doors. You could ask others for help, but they might actually take it away. That may be what you want, but that’s not what you really want, is it? You finally decide to throw open the doors to temptation when you see the cake is gone!
A pox was cast upon the land. It was so virulent that it caught up a majority of the population. No matter where they turned, the uninfected were exposed to those that had caught the malady. The epidemic had an extreme social and economic impact, such that as a nation we will never be the same again. Research and money has been thrown at the issue, but it only expanded the sickness. This is why the plague is called “Black Friday”.
Oh, and those of you who enjoy Black Friday, I hope you found the deals you were searching for. :>)
Part of the time I know exactly what I am doing. Unfortunately that part is usually when I’m sleeping. That is why I propose the building of the great machine. This invention will capture your dreams and put them into the world for all to see. It will allow you to put your imagination directly into your audiences’ heads. What is the price of such a miracle? Why only you forfeiting a small part of your soul. The soul is converted through self-doubt and torture into fairy dust to transform dreams into words on a page. Isn’t that a bargain?
Emeril picked up some salt and threw it in theatrically. “Bam!” he yelled. He waited for applause, but none was forthcoming. “This is harder than the old days,” he said.
Dealing with offal hadn’t been one of his specialties at first, but after time he found he had a real knack for it. A few more snips and the heart was now set. Emeril masterfully tied a few surgeon’s knots with butcher’s twine and the cavity was sown back up.
Lightning struck the rods outside and a moan arose from the corpse lying in front of him. “Bam! It’s alive!”
Stephen looked at the computer screen and wanted to flip that damn blinking cursor the bird. He had been at this for eight hours, and still his computer mocked him. It told him he wasn’t good enough. It made it blatantly clear every time he began to type. Stephen was so frustrated he thought about giving up his dream of becoming and author and instead take up basket weaving or skydiving. Still, he returned to the page. If he could just get his word processor to stop underlining everything in red and green squigglies he knew he would be okay.
To my love,
I feel faint with my deep hunger for you. Your everything fills my senses when I am with you. The sounds of you entering my presence announce that the good times are about to start. You dress in that sheer red sheath that promises so much, but is always understated. My eyes water when I smell you deeply, your perfume makes my mouth water. My lips tingle, remembering your hot touch. I taste your spice, your heat, when I lick you from my fingers. I love you chicken wings, for now and forever.
Yours for true,
The ripples on the pond echoed the fluttering of my heart. I couldn’t believe it. What was I going to do with you gone? It seemed so simple just yesterday. You were standing in front of me right here, telling me you didn’t want me in your life anymore. I was so angry. I devoted every second to you, but all you ever wanted was more space. Really? Well now you have your space, and I’m coming to accept it. Still I wonder if I could have done anything differently, like should I have buried you farther from the pond?
Bethany sat down in front of the mirror, her implements of battle arrayed in front of her. She unsheathed her first weapon then pursed her lips. The bright ruby red lip gloss shimmered in the morning light. Next a pretty purple sparkly eye shadow was applied a little below the eye and rich thick color above. She applied mascara next, each eyelash painstakingly teased to at least twice its thickness. Lastly, Bethany applied blush to her cheeks, gaining a very healthy glow. She looked so pretty!
Her mom came into the bathroom, saw her six year old, and cried, “Bethany!”