Stories tagged past

portraiture

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We all build portraits, meaning we all try to encapsulate and thus punctuate time. Why? Because, who among us can swallow eternity whole?

The Darkness of White Noise

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I love your free spirit he says.

At the ministry

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the longer they make you wait, the more you fall for the poetry of power

Ouroboros

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It matters little who thought of it first, what mattered was the schism. Or, to be more accurate, those on the opposite sides of the schism. And, of course, you are a part of this, dear reader. You are of one side or the other.

Dusk

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Her memory was a faded pastiche of the past, and indeed the present sat uneasily in the middle of the dreams that governed her mind; so it was that often she would forget the day, the time, the year.

Virginity.

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When you embraced me, I felt amazing.I rode miles today to play cards and drink Dr.Pepper with you. Today was the first time. As you whispered the words, the key, I felt your body tighten with mine.

Blood By Pines

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But all that they found at the top was bloody red spatters on pure white snowflakes. And beyond that footprints that got smaller and smaller until they disappeared completely into the spicy green pines.

Dirt

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Filling his nostrils, cold and moist against his cheek. The primitive taste of it, like licking a grave. Prayers tossed from his mind to the heavens as stray small coins are tossed into a fountain. His left arm throbbing beneath his weight. All around him

That Was Then, Not Now

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Memory is unreliable, of course-/ re-coloring savored scenes-/ paler here, more saturated there-

Long Night, Hard Night

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It had been a long night, a hard night. The sky had been filled with blackened clouds, patters of wind snapping and whipping like a pirate's flag hung at full mast. Rain beat…

Finale

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the future wrapped up in a dream

Nothing Much

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As a boy, he had little hope of ever becoming anything.

Parcel

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you hear the knell of kindness long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional -- barters better times.

You'll Stand At My Graveside (after Mary Elizabeth Frye).

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Don't throw earth on bones.

Waves of Memory

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"Sometimes things just don’t go as planned. It doesn’t mean anyone is to blame - It just is."