sharing life through words
Hello.
We have created this journal in the hope you might share your fiction. The idea is to take time each day to write.
Feel free to offer anything, be it an on-going story, a short piece of fiction, a poem, a riddle, or whatever takes your fancy.
Some days we might offer prompt words, ideas or directions, which you can employ or ignore. This is simply to encourage more writing, more criticism, and more of a word-based community.
Anything you want to see posted should be sent to the email link posted on this page; this account will be checked for submissions twice a day and then posted as soon as possible.
In your email, please specifiy the following:
- whether you want your writing to be posted publicly or privately (note: if you choose to write privately, the group name and password will be emailed to you)
- if your writing is a stand alone piece or part of a bigger project, to be posted in segments
- whether you would like a link posted to your blog or website.
CAUTIONARY NOTE: Please treat others and their stories as you would like to be treated. Constructive and respectful criticism is appreciated, as are comments praising a person's writing.
We hope you feel like joining in. It really is as easy as:
(1) write your words
(2) email them via the email link on this page
(3) comment on posted stories
(4) repeat above.
Happy writing!
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Untitled Part IV, by Shennanigans
The pain hurt worse than any he had known before that night.
It seered him from inside, somewhere deep within. He had felt crushed and elevated, in the same second.
*****
As more memories continue to invade his thoughts, he works to force his brain to search out the other thought - the one which slips through his fingers each time he is near enough to make a grasp at it. He seeks in desperation. He believes that if he can find it, he will be more at ease, better able to accept what is happening, and, maybe, just maybe, he could stop faking and truly sleep…peacefully even.
She is by his side, hoping that he has not lost his faith – in himself, in the medics, in the powers above.
She does not want him to suffer. If he suffers, she will suffer alongside him, for eternity should she need to.
*****
There are more people that want to speak to him than hours in a day can accommodate. One, however, finds the way into his room and to his bedside.
“Hi. I am sorry it has taken me this long to visit.” “You awake? I was hoping you would want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to you.” “This is a miserable thing we have all ended up in, don’t you think? I keep hoping I will wake up and discover it has all been a bad dream.”
“I wish I could say ‘thank you’ – well, that and so many other things too. Maybe I am not ready either.”
One more kisses his forehead, squeezes his hand, and leaves.
*****
He feels his eyes flutter open, though he cannot recall consciously telling them to do anything different than to remain shut.
He sees her, still there. Her body still refusing to lose its haziness. “Heh, look at that, the lights from the nurses’ station across the hall are making her glow.” “She is so beautiful.”
His body has a new lightness to it, one which he appreciates. He is so tired of the pain that he welcomes a release in any form, drugs or otherwise. “Thank you doc. Finally, the drugs are working,” he sighs as he completes the thought, his eyes closing again.
*****
He knows it is there now, in his mind. He knows exactly where it is hiding. “Who, really, is the hunted, and who is the prey?”
He takes his thoughts to that dark place, unsure what he will find, and anxious that it may be something best left alone.
Too late, he realizes what it is…
It seered him from inside, somewhere deep within. He had felt crushed and elevated, in the same second.
*****
As more memories continue to invade his thoughts, he works to force his brain to search out the other thought - the one which slips through his fingers each time he is near enough to make a grasp at it. He seeks in desperation. He believes that if he can find it, he will be more at ease, better able to accept what is happening, and, maybe, just maybe, he could stop faking and truly sleep…peacefully even.
She is by his side, hoping that he has not lost his faith – in himself, in the medics, in the powers above.
She does not want him to suffer. If he suffers, she will suffer alongside him, for eternity should she need to.
*****
There are more people that want to speak to him than hours in a day can accommodate. One, however, finds the way into his room and to his bedside.
“Hi. I am sorry it has taken me this long to visit.” “You awake? I was hoping you would want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to you.” “This is a miserable thing we have all ended up in, don’t you think? I keep hoping I will wake up and discover it has all been a bad dream.”
“I wish I could say ‘thank you’ – well, that and so many other things too. Maybe I am not ready either.”
One more kisses his forehead, squeezes his hand, and leaves.
*****
He feels his eyes flutter open, though he cannot recall consciously telling them to do anything different than to remain shut.
He sees her, still there. Her body still refusing to lose its haziness. “Heh, look at that, the lights from the nurses’ station across the hall are making her glow.” “She is so beautiful.”
His body has a new lightness to it, one which he appreciates. He is so tired of the pain that he welcomes a release in any form, drugs or otherwise. “Thank you doc. Finally, the drugs are working,” he sighs as he completes the thought, his eyes closing again.
*****
He knows it is there now, in his mind. He knows exactly where it is hiding. “Who, really, is the hunted, and who is the prey?”
He takes his thoughts to that dark place, unsure what he will find, and anxious that it may be something best left alone.
Too late, he realizes what it is…
Read/Post Comments (5)
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