The idea of traveling to Athens, London, and Paris was his ultimate dream
Reality was more of nightmare since he couldn’t afford gas to get across town
It was this that consumed his thoughts as he walked to his minimum wage job
Punishing himself for his lack of mobility, he didn’t see the curb in time, and soon he finally went for a …
Creating sagas out of pictures and words
Organized in windowed snapshots of time
Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT
It is an artform consumed by young and old
Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that
Focusing on what he had lost stole all his spare time and consumed his happiness.
It left him starved for the nourishment that was “The Before”.
Now that she had come into his life, all that was scrambled.
Didn’t get back any spare time, but he was stuffed with happiness
Being with you is one of the best things in my life
Under the full moon, with mischief on our minds
Doing deeds we will never talk about unless copious amounts of alcohol are consumed
Determined to make our mark on this world
You know, like the tatts we gave each other
Legions of words were peppered among the many shelves
It left the heady scent of knowledge permeating the air
Bracing herself, she picked up the first tome she saw
Reading the contents left her hungry for more
And so she consumed another, and then another. She kept going
Ravaging the stacks, never feeling sated
Yet the feast did not disappoint
Image: brainscape.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/huge-library.jpg
And the fires of rejection and hatred consumed his heart
Slag remained after the flames died down to embers
He left her, and the ruins of his life, behind as he staggered away
Image: i.imgur.com/3MQ6mpL.jpg
Can’t believe she is sitting across from me
And the kids are nowhere in sight
Now in the flickering light
Dinner is slowly consumed
Listening to each other without the constant munchkin banter
Enjoying the birthday of his marriage
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/XrDUTpeGW0A/maxresdefault.jpg
The words called to his soul. He ached to get away from their siren call, but there was no escape.
He felt them crawl into his brain, eating the cells one by one and replacing them with their offspring. Sweet sleep would end his captivity, but the words would not give him his rest. Soon he was driven mad. He didn’t care what would happen to his mortal shell, the words were all that mattered.
The next morning was tough, and staying awake at work would be almost impossible, but the novel was done and that meant he found peace.
Image: images.pexels.com/photos/46274/pexels-photo-46274.jpeg
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world
Never Short On Words 