Flash, nonsense, poetry

Haïkus of a failure

 

 

#3
oh in ten years time
you might very surely be
the love of my life

or the dream i never chased

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Flash, fragments

Rider of the lost art

It wasn’t until nine that day that they understood what had been going on. The people at the party seemed to be entertaining themselves enough for Maria to leave for a while. They were laughing and dancing and jumping all around, and for a fleeting moment she feared the whole floor would crumble and they would all fall down and die. Nothing of the sort happened, but a bunch of people were still missing. Or rather, they had failed to show up. Maria was known for throwing the biggest and baddest parties in town, she shouldn’t feel insulted by his absence, but somehow, she did. They’d met in a bar a few weeks ago, quite randomly. He had this weird look on his face, the puppy dog eyes she called it days after they had begun chatting. He wore sideburns and that gave him a seventies look she rather enjoyed. He looked like a huge teddy bear, she liked that too. He wasn’t much of a talker, but for some mysterious reason, she enjoyed his company. And when she had invited him, his shy smile seemed to mean yes, I will come and kiss you under some carefully placed mistletoe. But it was nine, and he was still missing. Continue reading

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Flash, fragments

Seasons in the abyss

The headlines read : “world peace at stake again”.
We had no idea what it meant, except for the fact that we had to wear the uniform a little bit longer. Duty had been replaced by necessity, and war had become some sort of strange routine. I for one lost count of all the people that had fallen. There was blood on my hand, almost too much to contemplate. But they never said anything but congratulations, you did what was required, what we expected of you. You’re a good fellow, captain citizen, general respectful, mister everything’s-in-order. We all laughed about it for a long time, but deep down we knew we had been screwed. Life screws you once, and then they get to you. Endless screwing, nights spent screaming in pain and agony. Continue reading

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Flash, fragments

Love is a dog from hell

“This is not a warning, Oliver,” she warned him.
He didn’t answer. No one in the café paid attention, people mindlessly went on with their lives. He thought in a movie, things would have happened differently. The waiter would be black, he knew that was a bad thing to think, but he didn’t mean wrong. He never did, things came out wrong and he often got in trouble for it. That’s what it was. But in truth, people in Hollywood or wherever else try to do those things, they want to prove they’re doing their part in equality. Just try casting an african actor or actress for a major part every once in a while, that wouldn’t kill you now, would it? Continue reading

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expletive, Flash, fragments

Conspicuous

“After all these years, you’d think I woulda learned something.”
“Who, me? No, never. You a moron.”
“Thank you. Always nice to kick a man down.”
He necked his drink, and John poured him another one.
“What is it this time heh? Is it politics? Favoritism? Society as a whole?” John asked.
“Fuck you.”
“You delicate flower you.”
He grinned heavily, enjoying the situation. Over the past twenty years, they’d come to develop this sort of push-your-buttons relationship. But they never allowed anybody else to do it. I knew I couldn’t, so I kept to myself and to my seat and watched the whole scene. John grabbed another bottle and put it on the bar. Walt didn’t move an inch. Continue reading

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