"Wisp" by Hana Shibazaki He had run out of that house of despair, running from angry voices and pointing fingers.
The rough terrain had been difficult on his thin legs, and so he had stumbled over every obstacle, the stars above mocking him. A skinny forearm had wiped away the crystal droplets, and they dangled in the air for a split second as the wind blew through the trees. He had stopped once he reached the outskirts of the dense forests, the smooth expanse of beach, and the calm waters ahead. The sticky snail tracks under his eyes were hurriedly rubbed away. He leisurely wandered the beach, tracing the path of fireflies with his pointed finger. The moon rose above him, softly illuminating the agate sea. Within the white sand, an aquamarine glint caught his eye, and he bent over to pick up the rarity. The piece of sea glass was only the size of his thumb, but as he held it up to the light he could see the world reflected within a bluish hue. He spun around, the gem pressed against his eye, until he saw her. A shadowy figure, with long, streaming hair. As she faced him, he swore he saw the world in her eyes. He stepped forward, his right foot entering the water. Then his left foot. She stood, suspended above the water, beckoning him, a mysterious smile on her lips. He suddenly began to sprint, terrified that she would disappear also. His fingers fumbled, and the gemstone fell from his hands. As he looked up in dismay, the figure was gone, replaced by the lucid beams of the rising moon, and the serene world around him. The water engulfed him as he fell. But he did not resist, for he was too hypnotized by an aquamarine glint.
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"The Way We Walk and The Things That Break Us" by Lou FSteady on the grounds, your feet they find me; you are walking. But will you walk forever? Content,
you will not stop, you are not searching, you do not seek, but find me anyway. If you find me, you will not stop. But if the path ends, do you end with it? The trunks of trees begin their branching, all things must start with another. A stick and a tree are not the same, yet, in a way, are similar enough that they might be. So, if the path bends, do you bend with it? Legs are burning and the feet that found me ache; lungs work in the dead of a fervent night. There is a hill to climb, the path climbs, you climb with it. But if the path falls into the sky and splits the sun in two, would you fall with it? Is it you that splits the sun? Wobble, wobble; I find you when the sun comes. Your long journey; yes, everything must start with another, and all things must end. Are you the path that you walk on? If not before are you now? If I asked you, would you know? My feet become yours, and your feet, at my hips. Have you now become me or are you still walking? Gravel slides beneath soles of rubber, we slide with it. Down, down; and now to these trees again. One is fallen. The path has ruptured its spleen. If the path breaks into pieces, do you break with it? And if you broke, would I break the same? "Death in the Garden" by Susi J Smith The hooded figure was standing in the bushes when Evelyn first noticed it.
Between the wilted acer and the orange-tinged hydrangea, it silently watched. Shadows obscured the face, long black robes hid the hands. Evelyn turned her back and poured two cups of tea from her Royal Albert teapot, the hot liquid splashed out of the bone china cups and onto the saucers. “Not now, please not now.” Gripping the pot with both hands, she put it back on the table. With a pristine white napkin, she dabbed away the trickle of spilt tea and brushed biscuit crumbs onto the soft grass below. Bushes rustled. Hurried footsteps trampled the grass. Hands seized her dress. She shrieked. “I know why you’re here,” Evelyn heard the tremor in her voice. “I’ve seen you lurking; standing in the shadows, staring out from the mirror. I knew it wouldn’t be long.” Giggles accompanied the grip tightening on her dress. A tear traced down her furrowed face. “Please, let me say goodbye, just one last time.” Her trembling body dropped to its knees. The figure bent, removing its hood. Bright blue eyes gazed at her. “Are you alright, Gran?” Evelyn smiled, nodding. “I stumbled, that’s all.” “I’m sorry I scared you, I didn’t want you to fall. It’s just my Halloween costume, remember?” Pulling her legs round, Evelyn patted her lap, allowing Alfie to scamper up. She swept a stray chestnut hair away from his eyes. “I’m going to miss you when Death comes. We always have so much fun together.” Alfie wrapped his small arms around her neck. “I don’t want to play anymore.” “The game ends for us all, whether we want it to or not.” Evelyn looked at the hooded figure standing in the bushes. A skeletal finger pointed towards Alfie’s back. |
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