One Page Stories

Why does the magic of the youth die with each realist idea I accept as the new truth? Did I age or mature when I let a child's play be replaced with a memory? How does one age well? Is there a way? Is there a guide? A

The blowing wind brushed a sliver of her hair down the middle of her face creating perfect symmetry. She let it slide without correction, as she knew it made her look amazing. Tears flowing down from the dusty smoke coming in merged with undecorated collar bones slow in waves to

How I love the people who embrace the alternative, such as this girl who spun the conversation on alcohol vs drugs into a story about how she adopted a grasshopper with blazing hair. On the days when I stuff my face with shrooms instead of solid foods the world forms

The dark morning brew tightened its grip on their uncaged minds. As the left hand switched to the right back and forth, the pull of the leash only got harsher. They bled. There was not a droplet of blood and yet they bled, deep scathed and to be scarred. Scares

Sparkling droplets of tears fell down on the centrally located table of a crowded restaurant. It was beautiful. The Spanish lady let everyone know she is full of heart, she feels deeply. Her colleague in support offered a waterfall of words but none soothed the opposing body of water. Laughter

Upon returning to my hometown of Prague I say down at the vista and looked down at the city. I realized it became uncommon to me. The spires I've seen a thousand times have become far and foreign muddled with new memories in shapes of similar patterns. Am