Wings flap, desperate
Try to escape this world, they
Skinny - 2I wake up to a startling noise. I whip my head to look around, to spot the source. No more than ten feet away, a deer has fallen to the ground. I stand up and sprint over to it.
The deer appears to have some wound going through the side of its head. I lean over it. Slowly, the quick breathing slows, then ceases altogether. This poor creature. I mourn the loss of it.
Footsteps are getting louder. They stop short, and a shout: “Oh my God!”
They continue. I turn around as they arrive to me.
“Are you okay, I was just out here…” they stop once I am looking at them.
Others. I have found them. This one is rather short, wearing a thick green jacket. His features are angular, but not so sharp as to be unsettling to the eye. His mouth is wide with thin lips, and a thin nose, flaring out as he breathes heavily. Such nice copper hair frames his face, with a small patch just on his chin. The eyes, the strangest part by far. Ovals pointing off at either end, large enou
Skinny - 1Dark. It is so dark out here. The night is when I travel. Daylight is no good for travelling, you know. Too obvious.
I do not know yet where to begin looking for father. He could be anywhere. I do know, however, that I need food. I have taken out the emergency fund, tucked away behind my belongings, and decided to travel back to town for the first time in a long time. Father would not approve of this. Maybe he will get so upset, he will return.
I go without the sunglasses father always made me wear to go on trips. They look so silly, horn-rimmed and bright red. Maybe on another, they look nice. Not on me.
Surely the reason behind the glasses is just as silly as the glasses, themselves. There are not really no others without eyes, but an ability to see. It cannot be so uncommon as father says.
This night is my fourth out travelling. The closest town to the spot father and I live is many miles away. Father likes the privacy. I always yearned to meet others. The books father gave me are s
Skinny - prologueFather has not returned for many weeks.
These woods, these dark, lovely woods, were all that belonged to me. If father did not return, they would be all there ever was. I had waited, just as he asked me to, right there, for his return. It was only supposed to be for a few hours. It wasn’t.
After the supplies ran out, at four weeks, I decided to head out on my own. Where to, I had no idea. This is the story of that journey.
LyricalFirst comment for a little girl
Slightly brightening her whole world
Made up of a single word
She thinks, who could have written this
A hulking male machovanist
Who was really very touched by it
Perhaps another dainty lady
Inspired to write once more, just maybe
Once she puts to sleep, her baby
Paging through her old thesaurus
Looking past the words that bore us
She thinks, My words sound like a chorus
Screams, book thrown, not filled with glee
To find out what it real means
gray day thoughts (tanka)life passes for
a day and a season
and then is gone
the waves you created
breaking on distant shores
future pastfuture is
it's said the
past soon erodes
forms in much the
one cannot quit
you do is new
step in it
every damn time
caught in loop
new age, old mind