I did nothing and felt absolutely nothing but dread. I saw the crowd dissipate but I just stood there, stunned as I looked at the corpse, and all that he had been through.
Editor’s Choice: The water must not touch the jacket. For then, it would release him. It would set him free of the madness of his love. The water must not touch the jacket.
I was focusing my tired eye at towards the grave plainness of the place when I heard the shrillest cry ever.It was the girl’s and I followed her voice.
You are a woman, a beautiful creation of God,Divine, holy, worshipped by all,Loving, caring, forgiving,You are a woman, a sordid weasel,A victim, a piece of garbage struck far,
I don’t know what has caused me to suddenly awaken from my intricately woven strings of slumber…– in a seemingly hopeless bid to express my feelings.
I waved to him as the train pulled away from the station. And I knew. I was never going to see him again.I did. And got a flag as the last remains
Story of the Month Mar’13: For all I know, I wasn’t drunk that night. Not that drunk. I stumbled out of the building, angry and upset. It was too much. I had just lost my job.
It was a cold autumn night when I first saw her. She was this beautiful illusion who had wings that could soar so high, it was impossible to scale
The light was dim and the wind cold,entered the hollow,through an open door,By the glint of the eye,he saw the nape of her neck,Through the door ajar
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled as the inequality of the winter breeze grifted her. A car passed her by inches as she dragged her bag across the pavements.