Snapshot Story: BetrayalThe burning light of the street lights pushes back the entrenched darkness that lay over the radiant beauty of the flower garden. A warm summer breeze blows, causing the flowers to dance. Two women walk through the well-worn path between two large rose bushes. The further they walk the more animated and tense their voices become.“Damn it Amelia, you just don’t get it do you!” The shorter woman yells her face flush with anger. Her dark hair bobbing as she throws her head about. “What did you expect Emmy? Was I just supposed to let you go wild?!” Amelia yells back. “I’m not a child anymore, stop calling me ‘Emmy’,” Amelia lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Emily, you’re my kid sister, I got to…” “No, you don’t,” Emily yells tears welling up in her eyes. Off in the distance, a clap of thunder echoes.The two women stand in silence, glaring at each other. “Come on let’s head back
The Swinging GirlAnother summer has come and gone, and a cold autumn wind blows across the silent, windswept field. In the field stands an old, weathered oak. The silent sentry grimaces as it is battered by the cold winds. Several of the leaves fall as the oak readies for a winter slumber. From the tangle of branches hangs an old wooden swing. A young girl sits in silence as she watches the crimson sun fade behind the distant mountains. In the distance, her mother watches from the kitchen of the small cottage that dots the landscape.Beside the tree sits a tombstone; a small mound of fresh dirt lies beside it. The harsh winds die down as her mother calls out. “Come in dear, it’s time to go,” The girl slowly raises, her head hanging low. As she moves past the swing, it begins to move. Hearing the creaking branches, the girl turns back once, a single tear trickling down her cheek.As she walks back, the sun gives a final wink before fading into twilight. A gentle breeze plays with the e
SoulsA film of sea salt clings to the window, like eyes who’ve cried for too long.Dark clouds pirouette in the sky above,They dance and twirl overhead, gracefully moving to the siren’s song.Our vessel crashes over eddies, falling as God gives us a shove.10,000 souls wait below, in the waters of the heartless sea,Bones of the hungry, the lost and the dead.The water rushes above the clouds, blue and grey is all to see,Grasping air with wistful gazes, death is welcoming in her warm bed.You can count the bubbles, one, two, three,As the lights fade o
HandsI stare into my hand, clenched into a fist,It’s shaking, from the fear and hate in my heart.Coldly, I stand enveloped in the mist,Created by a myriad of lies, of which I am a part.I stare into my hand, open and outstretched,It sits calmly, from the love and temperance in my heart.Warmly, I stand under the sun, drenched,In bliss, staring in awe of its cylindrical art.I stare into my hand, its limp at my side,It sits idle, from the fear and loneliness in my heart.Empty, I stand in the forest, trying to hide,In pity, trying to outrun the start.I stare into my hand, dirty and bruised,It’s battered, from all the lies in my heart.Crying, I stand in the city, broken and used,In the end, it seems that I wasn’t so smart.
WatchingIn this age of technology, things aren’t always what they seem. You can find out about anything you want with just the push of a button. Twitter, Facebook, Google Maps, Wikipedia… all of these sites are sending and collecting data. Each day, people expose themselves, and each day; a little more is lost.Every day, trillions of bytes of data are accessed, but not always by us. They are known as the watchers. The watchers aren’t satellites or phishing protocols, they are living beings; but that is our only similarity. They sit in silence, watching the world through our eyes. As our technology grew, so did their “eyes”.It first started with our satellites. This gave them their first blotted views. Much like an infants, their vision was blurred and spotty, nothing more than flashes in the dark. As time moved on, we gave them more “lenses” to focus through. Now… their vision far surpasses anything that we can hope to achieve.At first, they
UnbeknownstA year in a day seems just to passBy my world in a sorrowed “goodbye”Leaving behind yet another one,Echoed in the waves and pages.You hold up your hands, and trace the lines, Mapping the path of another’s soul.And paint the stars into the nightOf someone else’s morning sky.Now wipe those tears, please don’t cryYour time has come, let’s go play.I’ll wake you up when the mornings goneJust sit right there, and hold on tight.I don’t know what I’m feeling... But I like the way it tastes, Like silken chocolate in a trash can
Dusty MemoriesIn the dusty corners of my mindI will be waiting, looking to find,A new memory of yesterdaysIn the ashes of your gentle ways.Buried deep are those forgotten days,Wrapped in the dreams of loveless frays.Fighting the moonlight with a shattered songI’ll pen the ending that we’ll pass along.In a thousand truths are a thousand lies,No more the one than the other in my eyes.And in the dusty corners of my mindIt’s your face, I’m looking so desperately to find.
Shadows and SilhouettesIt's the silence of the rain that breaks the stillnessOr the howling of the wind that starts the storm.Huddled people stand under bus stop stallsHoping for a time when the storm will surely stop.The sun breaks through an hour before dawnWhisking away tears shed on yesterday.Hopeful people, bright and fresh-facedWalk through sunlight the sky has drawn.At night they stand so ready to fightOver things so trivial, with no remorse.In the darkness people whisper,Looking for ways to pull the trigger.But most days pass in shades of grey,Nothing more than silhouettes of time.Wandering, the people they pass,Nothing more than silhouettes of time.