Blue Skins aren’t Allowed

“Blue skins aren’t allowed on Station 3,” the terminal conductor repeated with some annoyance.

Her father waved a holo display in the conductor’s face. “Would you look at the papers. She’s a legal citizen and has the same rights as—”

“I don’t care what it is. Letting that thing on the transport will only cause problems with the other passengers.” The conductor slammed the transports’ doors and fired up the engines, leaving the two of them alone on the space bridge dock.

“Your species is filled with assholes,” Jamie finally said, interrupting the silence.

Her father chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”


Written for: Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday: 76, Bikurgurl

Venom

Your words are
More valuable to me
Than precious gems
Than life-giving air
Imagine, if you will,
What would happen
If you used them
To destroy me

I Waited on Death

We’re all waiting to die.

I learned that truth at a young age and hoped Death would save me from the minutiae of life. When he didn’t—if Death was indeed a he—I got desperate and figured I’d force his arrival. I remember sitting in my room holding my father’s gun to my head, the cold barrel digging into my temple. A twisted smile plastered on my face. I felt as if I was a lover waiting for my date to arrive, but the bastard stood me up.

Continue reading “I Waited on Death”

The Cards We’re Dealt

A Lost Soul, darkened by troubles,
Handed an Angel a set of worn cards
With ragged, trembling hands.

The Lost Soul tried to speak
But years of torment–
No doubt by the cards–
Made speech difficult.

Filled with pity, the Angel
Leaned down and said:
“Speak. I will listen.”

“Gracious One,” the Soul whispered.
“If it’s not too much trouble,
Can you put these back
And deal me new ones?”


Photo by Amisha Nakhwa

Rest

She lay rain-soaked on the cold pavement. Her eyes fixated on the gray clouds overhead as a paramedic pumped stale air into her lungs. She inhaled, but her lungs refused to contract.

I’m going to die, she thought. Yet, her body continued its futile fight for survival.

Then the blaring sirens, roaring rain, screaming paramedic, and her laboring breaths dimmed as if someone had turned the volume down on her life.

It was just her and the paramedic in the rain, but she could feel another presence. A safe presence.

Something warm caressed her cheek. “Rest, child,” a voice whispered. “Rest.”


Written For: Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday (week 56)  Continue reading “Rest”