We’re in Paradise

“We’re in paradise,” they said. “Unhappiness doesn’t exist here.”

As they smiled and ruffled my hair,
I felt darkness overtake
The last bastions of light
In my soul.

“Yes,” I said. “We’re in paradise.”


Picture by: Gerald Friedrich

It’s Odd Not Feeling

It’s odd not feeling. It’s like having a tight ball sit above the heart, its form writhing like a baby in the womb. Desperate for air. For life. When that ball unwraps itself, something bursts out and fills me despite my pleas.

It’s them, I realize as they incapacitate me. It’s them. The feelings. They’re back.

They’re like a rapid
Current plummeting the shore
A merciless force


Written for: Patrick Jennings’ Rapid ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #169, Pix to Words.

Photo by: Patrick Jennings

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

Life Assignment

I stepped into a sterile glass box that whirled as it carried me into the computerized brain of the Ancient One. Red lights ran the length of my body, gathering data for the algorithm that would determine my life’s purpose or, as the Ancient called it, Life Assignment.

A disembodied voice told me this was the day I’d truly begin living my life, but what the machine considered living…wasn’t living at all.


Written for: Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 106, Only 100 Words

Continue reading “Life Assignment”