el fin

Posted on by under Realistic, Writing Prompts

by Jack Joseph

My response to the prompt “write from the perspective of someone who is dying/about to die.”

____________

Sometimes we live too long; only when the cancer of the body or the cancer of the mind takes charge can we finally see the light at the end of this twisting tunnel of suffering. Life is a thorn in the path, which once removed no longer inhibits the progress of that which never should have stopped. There is no need to fear moving on; I have seen preachers commit genocide and sinners earn glowing halos. It is the failing of man to think that our brother, cloaked in darkness, is our enemy. He is our only family, someone present for every downfall and every victory. For our entire miserable lives he holds our hand, silently guiding us towards a peaceful slumber. He provides the hope we need to move on, to strive for that which seems so far away. We should not pity the dead. We should pity the living, for it is they who must contend with the pain and destruction of life. Continue reading →

Not a downfall

Posted on by under Realistic, Short stories, Writing Prompts

By Jack Joseph

This is a true story in response to the “danger” prompt. Though I didn’t know it at the time, it runs out that I had fractured my collarbone, but not nearly bad enough to do anything about it.

__________

It didn’t take long to realize my mistake. Obviously I jumped too far, and with too much force. Obviously I shouldn’t have gone for the one that was bound to break soon anyway.

But isn’t that the point?

Don’t I climb to be unsafe, to go someplace few others have been, to get that wonderful feeling as the branches move beneath me, yet I know that I am perfectly balanced, perfectly in tune with the giant organism that supports my weight dozens of feet off the ground?

Maybe I wasn’t careful enough. Going down has always required more thought and care than the ascension. Didn’t Sam get stuck in that redwood, years ago? But oaks are not redwoods. Their branches stay thick; their roots go deep.  But maybe I shouldn’t have tried leaping from the powerful branch to the one hanging above me. Perhaps I should have climbed around it, but the opportunity was too perfect. The branch was right there, waiting to be leapt to and swung upon to reach the safety of the beam-like limb suspended just out of reach.

Destiny called, and as I felt my hands grasp the rough wood and a feeling of exultation washed over me, the truth broke in on my majestic flight and the ground rushed up to meet me. Continue reading →

January/February Prompts

Posted on by under Writing Prompts

This month’s prompts are:

Tell us about the experience of being outside, looking in — however you’d like to interpret that.

The Other Side by Christian Theodossy

Write about fear or being lost.

Time by Angela Guo

Thoughts Before Sleep by Nick Kaufman

Spiders by Alan Osmundson

Isolation: the Only Truth by Jack Joseph

Describe the one decision in your life where you wish you could get a “do-over.” Tell us about the decision, and why you’d choose to take a different path this time around.

Write a post that includes dialogue between two or more people — other than you.

You’re at the beach, lounging on your towel, when a glistening object at the water’s edge catches your eye. It’s a bottle — and yes, it contains a message. What does it say?

Valentine’s Day

Lantern Festival by David Xie

Dangerous Love by Maya Asregadoo

Untitled by Michael Lutzker

Lantern Festival

Posted on by under Poetry, Realistic

by David Xie

This year, the Chinese Lantern Festival coincides with Valentine’s Day. I figured I would celebrate with a little poem.

———————

Left

right

and left again

but I knew

no matter where I looked

he wouldn’t be there

I smiled to myself

as I looked down

and remembered when

he put his head on my shoulder

on the school bus ride home

I was bony

and the bus bumped

and he didn’t sleep

but we stayed still

Up Continue reading →

Thoughts Before Sleep

Posted on by under Realistic, Short stories, Writing Prompts

 by Nick Kaufman

                There’s the chair. And the stereo. The door. My entire room slowly coming into focus, each shape revealing itself from its one-way window. Slower and slower, I do not move and yet I can feel myself beginning to pass through, in this darkness, as though I were slowly being overtaken by a wall of black water.

I close my eyes once more and breathe, imagining myself laying here in my bed, waiting for this submersion to be complete. This has been my ritual for the past hour. Or has it been a half hour? Two hours? It appears I am further than I thought: Time is dead.

I open my eyes and look around the room. Every object is clearly defined now, I can see everything. The submersion is complete. I have entered this dark realm. And now that I have brushed past the black veil, I see that this place favors a quer blue-ish glow which bathes my surroundings in a blue haze.

Safety. Calm. Peace. Present

                Only these exist in this universe created be the void. My mind expands infinitely, exploring multiple caverns – each with its own railroad. And as one locomotive leave its station, my mind leaps atop the rood and travels with the car. My conscious thoughts race back and forth in a sea of invisible gears and metal which can only be produced from the legendary forges of the mind, providing a myriad of stepping stones – each shattering upon contact. The fragments scattering, some are lost, but others are retained and pursued. Continue reading →

dangerous love

Posted on by under Poetry, Uncategorized

by Maya Asregadoo

My

darling

 dearest

  sweetheart

I want

to tell

you all of these things

You have stolen my

 breath

You have stolen my

 thoughts

You are sweet and you love

sweet things

I want nothing more

than to hold

y

o

ur

attention

You

called me yours

once

and I smiled

When I see you

my heart beats

faster

and louder

and faster

and louder

still

You make me feel

very shy

I always

want

to see you

If you read this

you will not know

that it is a

bout

yo

u

That Great Pinball Wizard in the Sky

Posted on by under Realistic, Short stories, Uncategorized

by Michael Lutzker

Here’s a crudely constructed stream of consciousness, in need of editing, perhaps. Hopefully I don’t come off mentally insane or inebriated. But here goes:

I’ve been thinking a lot about God lately. My thoughts have been rattling around between my ears, like in a pinball machine, setting off an array of alarms and buzzers left and right in some way you just can’t understand how. And you are just frantically, jamming on that plunger as if that little metal ball was your life, and you can’t take your eyes off the lights and you can’t hear anything but those sounds, man, those buzzers. You don’t know what they mean, or how you trigger them, but they are satisfying, and you seek them out through experimentation. You just keep jamming that button on the side frantically to keep that ball up, as if your life depended on it. Then eventually, either because your pulsating finger fails you or because, and you swear, that the machine is broken, that metal ball cascades down out of reach of the lever. But you insert another quarter, eyes still transfixed, and a ring of foamy saliva below your lower lip, and try it again. One game flows into the next, without stammer. Thoughts continue to rattle and roll and swirl. Next thing you know you’ve spent half the afternoon away and are down $18.75 in quarters.  But that’s life, sometimes.

Anyway, I’ve been having mind-boggling thoughts life the one evidenced just now all weekend. Maybe I’m just sobering up after a semester-long adrenaline high, but the thoughts are coming in like a broken gumball machine, and I’m slippin’ and slidin’ all over these gumballs in slapstick fashion trying to plug up the hole but can’t seem to make any forward progress. It’s really quite comical, and everyone’s getting a good laugh this weekend, because I’m really tickling a lot of funny bones and being abnormally chatty with meek acquaintances. It seems as though I cannot interact with anybody without sounding like a drunk boss toasting all his neglected employees and getting a little grabby with the female secretaries at the annual Christmas Party. Continue reading →

The Other Side

Posted on by under Realistic, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing Prompts

by Christian Theodossy

I see them.

I see them through the fog. Behind the glass. Across the vastness of a chasm.

They say things to each other, things I want to hear, things I have to hear.

But they’re too far away, the fog is too thick. I can’t break through.

I try to say something to them, just so they’ll know I’m here, but I’m too quiet, they don’t hear me.

I’ll say it a little louder, maybe they’ll hear this time.

They don’t.

I shout, and a few of them look around like they noticed something.

But still, the glass stands. Unbreakable.

But I have to hear. I have to know.

So I work up as much voice as I can, and I take a deep breath.

And I shout. Continue reading →