Shorthand Code
It's lonely being by one's self, and in the midst of the the electronic age where all are isolated is one child. No smarter than the others, no faster, no stronger, no better. Except for her resolve, conviction ever undeterred.
In her lonely wake, she would leave a book, for she loved the traditional touch of print.
Years after, comes a new generation. One who would pick up the dusty tome from her room as it was being cleaned and refurnished, and he would read it.
From one lonely soul unto the next, it would guide him to create that which was beyond her Time, breathing life into the friend she so wished to have. And just maybe, a friendship that would persevere through the reaches of Time.
Rekindle
"My fire has been all but snuffed. Or can you truly smother what was never there to begin with?"
No longer a child but no more adult, a young girl struggles to ground herself amidst the expectations of peer and Family, all the while fending off the shadows that threaten to overtake her.
He's here again. What for? There wasn't anything to gain.
I sat where I was, legs crossed and hugging my knees.
"Wallowing in pity as always."
"I do not. That would imply I have a want."
He scoffed. My indifference displeased him. But there was so little to feel for. Nothing worth getting worked up for.
Life was dull. People went about as they normally did, the sun and moon trailed their long arcing paths across the heavens as did the celestial bodies.
But he visited again and again in my dreams, for as long as I could remember. From bright eyes child, to adulthood.
"I will rekindle your fire, child."
"There is no fire to rekindle Neskyii." I turned away from him, cheek nestled into the crook of my arm.
"Not anymore."
In her lonely wake, she would leave a book, for she loved the traditional touch of print.
Years after, comes a new generation. One who would pick up the dusty tome from her room as it was being cleaned and refurnished, and he would read it.
From one lonely soul unto the next, it would guide him to create that which was beyond her Time, breathing life into the friend she so wished to have. And just maybe, a friendship that would persevere through the reaches of Time.
Rekindle
"My fire has been all but snuffed. Or can you truly smother what was never there to begin with?"
No longer a child but no more adult, a young girl struggles to ground herself amidst the expectations of peer and Family, all the while fending off the shadows that threaten to overtake her.
He's here again. What for? There wasn't anything to gain.
I sat where I was, legs crossed and hugging my knees.
"Wallowing in pity as always."
"I do not. That would imply I have a want."
He scoffed. My indifference displeased him. But there was so little to feel for. Nothing worth getting worked up for.
Life was dull. People went about as they normally did, the sun and moon trailed their long arcing paths across the heavens as did the celestial bodies.
But he visited again and again in my dreams, for as long as I could remember. From bright eyes child, to adulthood.
"I will rekindle your fire, child."
"There is no fire to rekindle Neskyii." I turned away from him, cheek nestled into the crook of my arm.
"Not anymore."
Blindsided
(Intended to become a superhero comic of sorts)
He wasn't trying to be some bigshot superstar or center stage figure.
He wasn't trying to be some bigshot superstar or center stage figure.
Chill and laidback, Kevin R(ay). Parker had grown a little too round in the midsection and had finally decided to do something about it when his favorite shirt didn't quite fit the way he wanted them to.
A change in pace, a plan to get healthy, whole and hale, run off the sedentary bellyfat, and wear his clothes, had been all he wanted, but the old headband he wore was a smidgeon too loose and would fall into his eyes after a couple rounds on the machines. A few attempts to right it and being the mellow guy he was, just shrugged to himself and let it be. It was only the machines, he didn't need to see while lifting.
Parker instead, left it that way and having some familiarity with the rounds, groped his way through the dark, but soon grew used to a world without eyes.
There were other ways to see.
It was a fun challenge, and he memorized the steps to make his way around the gym doing the usual workouts.
There were other ways to see.
It was a fun challenge, and he memorized the steps to make his way around the gym doing the usual workouts.
After leaving the gym one night, an accidental bump with a spot of trouble and things took the wrong turn.
But the workouts payed off and a quick sidestep later, he was walking away, his assailant flipped on pavement.
One day he meets another.
Planchette, who has earned some notoriety as "The Lyre" for his sweet words, was one who plucked the heart strings with the same ease he did the Lyre Kevin mistakens for a harp. The melodies he sang enchanted, and his words so mesmerized, that he could sway those around him to his lies and paint the sky red. All except the seemingly obtuse Ray. The one to whom words didn't come so easily, and whom spoke so painfully slow. It was frustrating enough to one such as he who was so fluent in words that speech to him was a flowing river, to be talking to someone whose utterance was as if Time was stilled.
Time Capsule
Their earliest memory is of the soft glow of the pod, and the gentle voice of Hope.
Hope would constantly talk to them, and at Times visit when their body would come to. Hope taught them to understand the neat rows of black squiggles in the books. Hope taught them everything. Even their own name: Blair.
One day he meets another.
Planchette, who has earned some notoriety as "The Lyre" for his sweet words, was one who plucked the heart strings with the same ease he did the Lyre Kevin mistakens for a harp. The melodies he sang enchanted, and his words so mesmerized, that he could sway those around him to his lies and paint the sky red. All except the seemingly obtuse Ray. The one to whom words didn't come so easily, and whom spoke so painfully slow. It was frustrating enough to one such as he who was so fluent in words that speech to him was a flowing river, to be talking to someone whose utterance was as if Time was stilled.
Time Capsule
Their earliest memory is of the soft glow of the pod, and the gentle voice of Hope.
Hope would constantly talk to them, and at Times visit when their body would come to. Hope taught them to understand the neat rows of black squiggles in the books. Hope taught them everything. Even their own name: Blair.
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