Berserk

Grimm Shores

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

I’m berserk, but aren’t we all?

I see cobwebs, I see the fall!

To be the fairest in the land,

I got kicked in the… fanny,

Simply for being bland.

And all the king’s horses,

And all the king’s men,

Couldn’t put me back together again.

And if I ever wanted to be,

Or not to be for that matter,

The question was simple,

What of my plea?

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Away with the cobwebs, away,

Or I shall get you in a dreadful brawl!

Writer's Dash

Swan Song

Tim's Dreams by Romy Nayar at MetaLES

Meet me at the far left corner of paradise. Meet me there where no one will go. Bring a heart, bring a smile, and bring a future perhaps… Meet me there where I’ll be, looking away from before, waiting ahead... for you.

Writer's Dash

Chains

Machinima Open Studio Project - LEA20 2012

Numbers roared in his head, louder and louder. He looked at the phone and repeated them incessantly. 100 links of distance, the carbon atom, and the hotels, theaters, restaurants, banks, his mind was filled with an excess of information that no one comprehended. “Yes? Yes. Ok, I’ll tell him,” but he wouldn’t. He hung up trying to stifle the noise. What was once comforting was now drowning him. This obsessively loud chain of numbers paralyzed him in a motionless repetition of helplessness. Make me a prisoner no more, he wished, whispering at the mountains above, hoping to beat his demons.

100 Word Stories

Camper

Pixel Dreams

She was overdressed to be a camper, he thought. She wore an elegant jacket in teal with matching shirt and pants, high heel black boots and dark leather gloves. And yet there she sat, at the edge of the shore. Her eyes were lost in an invisible horizon covered by the thick fog.

“Have you been here often?”

She didn’t reply. She just sat there, motionless.

“Are you on vacation?”

She shivered slightly and pointed.

He couldn’t see anything.

“What is it?”

She stood up.

Something trickled in the water, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. When he turned towards her, she was gone. He got his face close to the surface, trying to understand.

“Is that…?”

He crawled backwards in horror towards the tent and sat where she was before. It was her in the river, mouth open in a cry for help, the woman who had been sitting by the tent.

Writer's Dash

Samadhi

Retropolis

"Breathe in, breathe out, synchronicity of spirit, movement of body. Higher awareness, enlightenment of the soul, everlasting peace. Breathe in, breathe out.”

The spiritual master guided the class with soft spoken words. It seemed quite easy to follow. She even felt she could do it, to achieve some sort of heightened level of consciousness. The problem was later, struggling to remember that while the ship staggered violently with the fierce movement of rebellious waves, her inner body trying to become part of her outer world.

Writer's Dash