One Page Stories

First words are the hardest. Further words not so much. Something comes out of it either way.

When I woke up this morning I’ve forgotten how to fly. How to hover an inch above the solid ground and not feel the pressure of my body pressing me down. How to escalate without machinery or a hillside to hike. How to soar full-speed against the wind current.

In between brewings of batches bitter, I sit down to rest and breathe. In and Out. I let gusts like guests into my abode. Frantic I try to cover my mouth the moment I choke. Too late. The toxin already made itself at home. In a short moment, it will

Over the bridge came a man thinking foul thoughts. Strangulation, manipulation, derange, revenge, spite, and hate, combined brew the disastrous cocktail. His eyes nearing mine were discolored to hues of gray, bulging in their sockets. Behind the asymmetrical smile beheld worlds charged with pure negative energy, kept on a leash

Apathy is the loneliest of emotions - it cares not, neither anyone nor anything for it, yet it must continue to exist. Poor gal. The infinite rope held tight two invisible ends. In perfect balance, a shapeless silhouette progressed forward with minute steps. Surrounded by colorless blank canvas the rope

Attraction. Distraction. In two words, has never been, a closer connection.