Flash

Rusty

It had been a dead end.
I quickly came to realize there was nothing more I could do. I had to wait. Back in the day, you didn’t have any app to tell you where to go, where to find the next person. There was no swiping right or left movement, nothing of the sort. You had to wait. You had to wait for the green light, you had to wait for the rain to show up, you had to wait in line. Nowadays, people just don’t bother. You don’t see lines in the street anymore, you see riots, mishapen circles, geometrical atrocities, spatial representations of even more atrocious people really. Continue reading

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Flash, prose

Memories

After a while, people started to get used to everything that was happening. The terrible things, I mean. The wrong people were being elected almost everywhere, it seemed as if peace was turning into another simple five letter word which nobody really paid attention to. Cars were stolen and thrown onto men, women, husbands, wives and children; all of that, for no other justification than complete and utter misunderstandings. That, Kid, that took a hell of a lot out of me, and out of a lot of people. Our lives quickly changed – simplified by that ridiculous and yet harsh truth : you knew things would turn out to shite, you just did not know when. All in all, with hindsight, I would now say that it was more waiting than really living at all, you know? Continue reading

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fragments

Land of the Lost

I stood there for a long while, my mind drifting off in a sort of psychological no man’s land that will always remain wordlessly imperceptible to me, until some noise drew me out. The coffin lid was still up and it was all about horizontal lines and dark shades of white. There wasn’t much sense in any thing, living or dead. That, and I stood still there, alone.
Words and sounds came in echo all around me, I was passive, they were active. Linguistics and semantics. I remembered sentences, quotes, was reminded some things that I had said. Awful things mostly – an eternal trick of the mind. Continue reading

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Non classé, nonsense

Dot dot dot strange story dot dot dot

The climb was harder than it seemed.
Each movement scared him, drained him. His legs stopped for a moment, he was stuck, his hands gripping the bare rocks as hard as he could. He did not pay attention to the tingle in his fingers, all he could focus on was the landscape. Although they had kept telling him not to, he looked back. He often did on the way up, and it both scared and amazed him. I’ve come this far, he said to himself, that’s unbelievable. In some sense, he felt that even if he came to fall, if something were to happen, he would be fine with it. As fine as the situation would allow him to be. Continue reading

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fragments, Non classé, prose

Beat

And there we were, thinking we had seen it all. Funny how you can be unknowingly full of yourself sometimes. I guess life does that to you. But that’s the way it started really, we thought we had done it all, seen it all; we thought we were on top. And above anything else, we thought the world was ours for the taking. Continue reading

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Non classé, short story, writing

Sublime Solution

Everything happened as I just told you. We were working on the project, all of us. Neil was in the other room fetching coffee, Nick and I were focused on how and when to do it. All of a sudden, we hear this very strange noise, like a doorbell. But heavier. Almost like a toll, you know? For a second I thought of Undertaker. You know Undertaker? He’s an old WWF wrestler, everybody used to think he was some sort of a zombie, and he would come out on that death tune, you know which one, right? Right. So that noise breaks out, and we hear something breaking on the ground. I think it’s Neil and the coffee cup. He’s one clumsy dude, you know? So I just figure. Nick and I keep on working and suddenly we hear him speak behind us. For that I have to apologize, I can’t exactly quote what he said. I was never able to, tragic flaw of mine most teachers said when I was young. But that’s the way my brain works, you know? Continue reading

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