Whistling away the boredom while looking at His wrist
As He waited for the seconds to tick by
The time was coming when all Hell will be unleashed
Creating a new reality that He would use to remake the world in His image
He smiled. Soon He would do more than just …
Blinking, trying to bring it into focus, but fails
Leaving the image muddy and obscured
Unable to clarify what was happening, she put on her glasses
Realizing that being old was the only thing she could see clearly in the morning
Fire climbing high into the sky
Lighting her eyes in a way that was magical
And the image made his heart skip a beat
Maybe that’s why it didn’t hurt as much
Even as the knife plunged deep into his chest
Creating pictures to represent data
Has a power unto its own
And we react to that image in about a half a second
Reaching conclusions without really knowing the story behind it
That is why even though a picture is a thousand words, they could all be lies
She scowled at her reflection
It was all angles, scars, and knots of muscle
Leaving her bereft of the soft curves she knew he desired
Vapor poured into the window behind her
Envisioning what was about to happen, she punched her image, shattering it
Reaching for a shard, she let it fly, impaling the coalescing vampire. “How about that curve?” she muttered.
Image: 4.bp.blogspot.com/_nQPNm2CFPFU/Sq2pPxjd4BI/AAAAAAAAAAs/hP2oroqmQns/s280/Glass%25201.jp
The whiskey scorched all the way down as he took another swig. He almost fell over as he ground out his cigarette. That brought him face to face with that photo of her in that navy blue dress.
“I can’t believe you’re gone.”
A sob escaped causing him to slump into his recliner.
“We were so good together.”
Putting down the bottle, he picked up her image and gave it a sloppy kiss. He went to put it carefully back down, but instead, he fumbled it. The photo tumbled to the tiled floor, shattering the glass. He groped for the now naked photograph, cutting his hand, but undeterred, he snagged it. He sucked on the blood while staring into the picture’s eyes.
“You enjoyed that didn’t you, hurting me again?”
He picked back up the bottle and pounded what was left. Snatching his lighter he set fire to her visage.
“Fuck!”
He watched her burn, yet even when the flames reached his fingers, he couldn’t let go. Not even when she was just ashes.
“I told you I’d do anything to make you stay.”
He showed his fingertips to the navy blue urn on the bookshelf.
“See, I meant it.”
Image: d1nr5wevwcuzuv.cloudfront.net/product_photos/69254667/file_e29426d8ce_original.jpg
Satan couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight as humanity struggled to stand
The fallen angel laughed with contempt, God’s image indeed
All they were was an afterthought of creation
Raised to shove home the lack of free will into the faces of the angelic hosts
Even now he hated that fact because that meant he was created to fail and fall
Image: 4everstatic.com/pictures/abstract/eye,-flames,-darkness-130135.jpg
Focus was off, so everything was blurry
Adjusting the lens brought clarity to the image
Directing her to begin, the camera started to record
Everyone focused and he yelled, “Action.”
It meant that the movie was now underway
Now to make the magic happen
Image: viddyad.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/000000889890-l-movie-clapboard-large.jpg
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
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
Never Short On Words 