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StoriesCurious by nature
I seek adventure
Even from my motionless dreams
I feel the thrill around me
As an artist and a creator
As a reader, a watcher, and a listener
I feel every piece come right through me
I feel every word try to tell me something
That they don't really mean
I feel hungover
Mainly by the mystery
I feel every tale
And every other word in every story
I try to look closer
I try to grasp what's out of my reach
In the end
All I see are other people's stories
All I feel are other's emotions
By the time the rest of the audience has gotten over it
I sit here still feeling
I sit here wonderin
SecretsA small boy lay crumpled at the foot of an effigy in an empty cathedral. It was cold and dark. He was alone.
Suddenly, the sound of shushed footsteps, followed by vigorous shaking and whispering greeted him. "Klavier! Klavier! Get up! The bishop! He is coming!" The little boy's eyelids flitted open without hesitation as he got up. "Hurry! Come on now!" A yawn escaped him as he was tugged harshly by the sleeve. Heavy footsteps were soon heard echoing through the back of the cathedral.
Dozens of faded protest tarpaulins covered the abandoned confessionals where he and his brother now stood. "Hey Kristoph, that hurt." His brother continued sta
OutnumberedDecember 24, 2013 11:00 pm
It's funny, you know. I find it so funny. At this very moment children my age will either be asleep in bed waiting for the joys tomorrow will bring or waiting for the dawn of midnight. As Ms. Santmier would say, "...these children like you..." She's never wrong, spare this one moment. It's funny how I'm right back to where I was a year ago: spending Christmas alone only this year maybe I understand what happiness really is.
My name is Lionel Trenton. I am 13 years old. And this Christmas Eve, I'm a writing my last letter.
December 24, 2012
Ms. Santmier always said Christmas was a time for happiness. I never be
The Demons of LA: Part I
The man at the bar radiated an understated sense of affluence that was only emphasised by the place’s grubby interior. His dark suit was exquisitely tailored, sitting in smooth angles across his broad shoulders. The sleeves were cut to show just the right amount of crisp white shirt cuff at his wrist. Probably a little overdressed for a place like this and at around forty he was older than most of the other customers, but his relaxed posture as he watched the band onstage made him look completely at home. That and the long, dark ponytail that suggested he was more than just a rich businessman. Julian plonked himself down on the stool next to him. The two men were about the same age, but that was where the similarity ended. As well as being a full head shorter, Julian’s clothes were still crumpled from the suitcase and the lack of sleep on the plane had left dark circles under his eyes. The girl behind the bar put down the glass she was drying and flun
Rebound GirlThere was a girl speaking French on the bus on Tuesday morning. Her voice bubbled up over the rattling growl of the engine and mingled with the muffled ballad coming from the driver’s tinny radio. Robbie leaned his head against the dusty window, crushing his curly hair against his cheek. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what she looked like. She laughed and scolded the other person on the phone in French. Robbie chuckled to himself. She must be a stunner with a voice like that.The jerk of the bus pulling up at the stop banged his head against the glass and he rubbed at his temple as he heard the girl finish her conversation and snap her handbag shut. He leaned his elbow against the edge of the window and peered over his shoulder at her as she stood up.It was her eyes that struck him first. Big doe eyes with a dreamy faraway expression like a girl in an old impressionist painting. Her hair was deep velvet brown that boun