Added: Desi Henke - Date: 21.01.2022 18:29 - Views: 35541 - Clicks: 650
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We'll send you 5 prompts each week. Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. I saw a tree and thought of you, or rather, thought of the way you see trees. I Dirty short stories online when we walked through the Ramble in Central Park, a wild place in the center of a Dirty short stories online wilder still, resplendent and emerald in the early summer sun. You stopped suddenly when you saw it. I remember how you cocked your head in appreciation, a tendril of hair escaped from behind your ear.
You brushed it back with an unconscious ha Colleen is packing to leave for university. She folds her clothes into neat piles, her fair hair arranged in an artfully messy bun, with gold strands curling around her face. She packs her rolled up socks into the maze of groves left by the clothes piles. Her movements are thoughtful and tender, like she is tucking them into bed. I watch her from my quiet corner outside the door of her room, chewing on a hangnail. I stare at her, willing her to hea Yet here I am, groping for a light switch in a kitchen that I spend more time inside than my own We could talk about the wind and waves.
We could talk about the boat.
We could talk about the life jackets. We could talk about the men and the lake.
We could talk about why they went so far out from shore. I am spinning slowly in my tank, suspended in doped-up air, buoyant, bobbing. Piano music Beethoven? My eyes are closed, but if I opened them, I would see only pale yellow light enclosing me in a warm glow.
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No one starts out wanting a guest room.
It used to be storage but then the divorce happened leaving it depressingly empty. A studio for recording music but the bass player Spinach is advised. Maybe a green curry?
I guess even artificial intelligence i Content warning: suicidal thoughts She waits with a watchful eye, staring at the pasta. Pacing back and forth across the empty kitchen with the useless pots and pans still in the creaky cupboard, she adds another pinch of salt to the pasta.
They might b His large arms twist and flex unnecessarily as he shovels extra hors d'oeuvres and scraps of entree into the bag. His upper lip is a thin white line, stretched tight below frowning eyes. The faint and smoky gleam of the first stars illuminates our dining room.
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One measly screwdriver stuck into the lock would suffice to split it open, exposing the Trigger warning: Talk of self-harm and suicideHave you ever had this feeling? A rotting piece of wood adrift in the vast ocean.
Does saying it like that make me sound too pretentious? Second year of university; m Nothing is forever. The girl is so small her Dirty short stories online dangle off the folding plastic bench. Hugo-Day one, the hottest day in July.
The kind of hot that makes the neighbors forgo underwear and plant themselves in front of oscillating fans. Feet planted in small kiddie pools filled with tepid tap water, topped off with bagged ice from the corner market. The breeze from the fan casting across the iced pools does nothing to diminish the warmth from their radiating bodies. Instead it pushes the sweat further across their faces and thighs until they are all shiny with sweat.
Once upon a time… …there was only war. She laughed. Once there was a girl who… …who had a monster in her, clawing at the sur The train is supposed to run from Grand Central to Times Square, one stop, five minutes at the absolute most. But it had been… how long had it been? I can space out pretty bad sometimes. Family lore has it that I slept right through a freak tornado that ripped off our roof.Dirty short stories online
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