You will not die because of death, but you will die because of life. She said, and I listened. We human beings have worldview, and this worldview is different among each others. As I was listening to her philosophical ridicule, I was thinking what made her like that. She then started saying, “You know what is your problem, I think, you think a lot.” She continued, “Yes, about her.”
Added by Santosh Kalwar on June 25, 2012 at 2:08pm —
He cries at the word bedtime as Mommy unbuttons his black jacket with fumbling hands. Her eyes are a scary red as she forces them into the routine of pajamas, tooth brush, and bedtime story. He waits until she flips the switch and clicks the door shut before he sits up against the darkness. There is still a piece of the routine missing, the hug that would make him feel safe again, if only he could stay awake long enough to hear the front door open.
But, like the night before, sleep… Continue
Added by Michelle Ristuccia on January 20, 2012 at 8:00am —
Every rotation, she diminishes and I increase. I will be my sister's grim reaper. I can imagine that, at first, our parents were ecstatic. A twin star birth would be a powerful one, enough to increase our galaxy's standing against our neighbors. Then I and my sister emerged, not the promised identical twins of legend, but ever so slightly mismatched. Already, she is an orange-red subgiant, doomed to a cooling core.
Added by Michelle Ristuccia on December 30, 2011 at 1:00am —
‘Our mothers were both just housewives you know, and now all this!’ I heard her tittering with the quiet couple I’d glimpsed in our hall. A fifty hour working week and still she refused to let the agent tour prospective buyers. I know these place best she’d said, and I shrugged and tidied my briefcase into a corner of the hall, like I didn’t live here. I’ve changed and shaved; am on my way to a bed-sit… Continue
Added by Pearl Hadley on August 8, 2010 at 3:22pm —
Nissa was a beautiful hilly town, where the wild flowering balsam threatened to usurp the land, and softened the pain Antara felt from Mama's constant beatings. Opposite their home, shaded by a giant plum tree with honey-sweet fruit, stood a lover’s lane embraced by trees filled with birds. Antara wished to walk it with the handsome Pandit Sir, her art teacher, who had anointed her forehead with the sacred red powder in a temple on a hill, leading the students to whisper that she was now… Continue
Added by Anita Saran on July 25, 2010 at 3:06am —
Stephen watched his father’s ritual from the breakfast table as his father kissed his mother goodbye as he left for work and said, “I love you.”
His father never left or entered the house without this mantra.
Stephen wondered what love really meant because he loved choc-chip ice cream and Adam… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on July 7, 2010 at 12:34am —
Antara wept, reading her Father's letter, so poetic in its pathos. All his pain for a mere dream her boyfriend Aries was dreaming about their escapade to some sleazy hotel room! Wasn't her father the only one she really loved, apart from Grandmother?
And Mama – he saw her as a dragon too, a dragon destroying everything in its path. Somehow the two sides of the dragon refused to fit into a perfect piece in the jigsaw of her childhood for it was Mama who had made… Continue
Added by Anita Saran on June 19, 2010 at 2:06am —
It was the Mulberry tree I loved best. I sat on its kind branches, my lips, my clothes stained with the purple juice of the fruit. Everything I touched turned purple: my white dress, the cherished pages of the red bound picture bible, the drawing book filled with my childish sketches.
Then, one day, at my touch, the enchanted trunk of the Mulberry tree parted down the middle and at its core stood the Red Fairy.
"We've been expecting you," she said in a musical… Continue
Added by Anita Saran on June 16, 2010 at 2:56am —
The red balloon bobbed above the heads of the comings and goings in the hospital corridor like a colourful speech bubble. It bounced into the children’s ward where tubes were worn like necklaces and bandages were a new zombie craze. Offsetting the bleep of machines and odour of sickness the red balloon added another splash of colour lighting up sallow faces. With the help of a black texta,… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on May 24, 2010 at 7:52am —
Despite arthritic hands, the deft touch of the paring knife skated under the apple’s skin, peeling it away in a continuous length. Wisps of fragrant pipe smoke melded with the crisp tang of the apple and formed patterns in the shafts of afternoon sun. The whistle of the kettle rose in pitch and called him to the kitchen. Turning off the gas he fell to the ritual of preparing tea; warming the pot before measuring in her favourite Earl Grey tea and laying out… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on May 14, 2010 at 6:57am —
Streamers floated in the breeze and cake crumbs littered the tablecloth while the lounge room floor was strewn with the debris of a six year old tornado who had torn into wrapping paper to get at the goodies. But Matthew abandoned the boxes of Lego stacked beside a bright yellow dump truck covered in layers of new t-shirts and pants for a dash around the backyard. A bright red balloon trailed like a comet behind Matthew as he whooped and hollered while the… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on May 13, 2010 at 7:10am —
Jack and Stewie sat on the back step of the porch with a bowl of grapes and crackers philosophising on the things that are important to a five year old such as the change of seasons.
“What makes all the leaves on the tree change colour?” asked Stewie.
“Mum says that in autumn the tree begins to shut down and keep its energy for spring, so the leaves die and that’s why the leaves change colour,” said Jack. “What do you think?”
“I reckon that a bunch of little painters go… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on May 10, 2010 at 2:42am —
I’ve always wanted to fly as I watch the balloons float away above the carnival, wishing I had that freedom. The closest I can get to that wish is memory and imagination. My body aches at the remembrance of grasping the chain of the swing set; leaning backwards, getting dizzily disorientated watching the world arc from blue to green to blue. I imagine flying feels a lot like swimming in an aquiline ocean, rising and falling with the phases of the moon,… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on April 29, 2010 at 7:18am —
Jake scrummaged in his art and craft box for a marker. Sitting against the bed he wedged the red helium balloon between his knees and began to write the prayer of a six year old. Going into the backyard he released it, letting the ribbon unfurl through his fingers. It rocketed upwards, its string a tail, a seed propelled by faith, with hope that it would conceive and bring forth life. Jake shaded his eyes and… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on April 25, 2010 at 8:30am —
The old rail tracks outside of Scranton are the keepers of my darkest secret. It was by those tracks that I first played with black magic. My best friend, Jen, didn’t want to, but I made her. She was still spooked from the previous evening’s Ouji board experience, but I managed to convince her to don a black cape that matched my own, pull the hood over her head and chant by candlelight. That evening I placed an order with Satan for my step-father’s death. I walked the tracks alone the following… Continue
Added by Susan Sonnen on April 19, 2010 at 8:00pm —
“All you have ever done is find fault and be critical, without ever taking a look at yourself,” his wife said as she slapped a magnifying glass into his hand.
He turned the object over in his hands in bemusement but remembered times as a child crouched in the dirt, magnifying glass focused inches from the ground watching the ants move in their industrial symmetry. Back… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on April 16, 2010 at 12:40am —
“Here’s to a ten years of The Table of Knowledge,” said Dan as he slopped the first round of beers down. James reflected on the Table of Knowledge, the weekly symposium begun by six idealistic university undergraduates; they had been at the same table discussing the world’s problems and in some measure solving them. Their banter traversed stories of marriage and divorce, children and careers;… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on March 26, 2010 at 5:30am —
Michael lay on his back and counted his breaths, measuring their depth of inhalation and release. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, wondering when his allocated portion would expire. He remembered being a young boy, turning blue Continue
in defiance while holding out for a demanded packet of chips, while his mother
calmly waited for necessity to take over.
When he had leaned in to kiss…
Added by Adam Byatt on March 10, 2010 at 6:09am —
John stamped up the stairs and flung himself on the bed, burying his head in his pillow while sobs racked his body. As a comforting hand rubbed the small of his back, he blurted out, “Susie said she doesn’t love me anymore.”
Amidst the debris of a failed relationship, it needed to be cleared up, to understand what had gone wrong, to provide an anchor for hope in the future, “What brought that on?”
“At recess when kindergarten went out to play, Susie said that we were boyfriend and… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on January 24, 2010 at 6:31am —
Camille's desk was a bastion of kitsch, always within company guidelines though, cycling through the fads like kids trading footy cards. Leonard was part Julius Caesar, part king’s own fool, a smug and gleefully frivolous smirker who sought to best Camille’s oddities. His action heroes trumped troll dolls, the min Zen garden complete with rake and bonsai feature blew away the Chinese money plant, and in the fait accompli, his coffee jar of tadpoles swamped her Siamese fighting fish. Camille… Continue
Added by Adam Byatt on January 19, 2010 at 6:30am —