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Dec 05

What have we done with this world

It was the middle of spring but the garments she wore resembled those of midwinter. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, but she shivered, the breeze like an icy knife slicing her fading skin. A trip to get the mail was an everlasting journey, a book and quilt a heavy load. Though her body was feeble, her mind and heart were strong. She reached her weather-beaten hands and for a moment a golden ray of sun rested upon her hunched figure. A sigh of relief escaped her cracked lips. And seemed to spread across the morning, the lightening sky began to glow with the arrival of a globe of golden light, the mountains in the distance, once dark stood a striking purple against the green of the lawns. Yet the woman gifted the sight merely a glance before hobbling back to the comfort of her home. She had seen it all, the mountains, the oceans, the sun, the sky. She had seen the beginning of time and the fall of Rome, Da Vinci's works, and the wright brothers plane.
Dec 03
poem, fiction 2 comments challenge: Fear

Afraid

I’m afraid of thinking that I’m right,
And then someone proves me wrong.
Then, in their eyes, I am nothing but a person
Who didn’t know the right answer.
I’m afraid of people judging me
For my appearance and not for my personality
And my heart.
I’m afraid of being alone when I’m older,
And all of my friends leaving me.
I’m afraid of not being able to get out of bed in the morning.
I’m afraid of taking my eyes
Off of my best friend, for fear that I’ll lose her.
I’m afraid of procrastinating, even though I approach him
Everyday.
I’m afraid of what I look like to other people.
What do they whisper to each other behind cupped hands
As I walk by.
What if everyone is lying to me?
What if I am as small as everyone says I am?
What if I am just an insignificant dot in a universe that is just as small?
Dec 02
keelan durham's picture

grass

 
grass
My biggest irrational fear was my fear of grass, I do not have this fear any more and have come to love grass, but that was not the case when I was two. I lived in new york city until I was four, I was born in december and there was snow on the ground. Summer rolled around and I guess the only parks my parents took me were small that did not have any grass. Soon it was summer again and we took a trip to my grandparents. Once we were there my parents, finally having a place that I could play in the grass, set me down to play. Having never seen a significant amount of grass I was afraid of the green stuff carpeting the ground. Instead of having the reaction everyone thought I would I started crying and waving my arms around. It was then my parents realized that their child was afraid of grass.
 
Dec 02
keelan durham's picture

grass

 
grass
My biggest irrational fear was my fear of grass, I do not have this fear any more and have come to love grass, but that was not the case when I was two. I lived in new york city until I was four, I was born in december and there was snow on the ground. Summer rolled around and I guess the only parks my parents took me were small that did not have any grass. Soon it was summer again and we took a trip to my grandparents. Once we were there my parents, finally having a place that I could play in the grass, set me down to play. Having never seen a significant amount of grass I was afraid of the green stuff carpeting the ground. Instead of having the reaction everyone thought I would I started crying and waving my arms around. It was then my parents realized that their child was afraid of grass.
 
Dec 01

Market

"Mother, come back."

My son stands by the door and sighs, as if he has anything to sigh about.

"I'll come back when I'm dead!" I shout, shaking my fist at him. My voice scratches and scrapes at the back of my throat. 

He rubs his temple and purses his lips. "You can't leave the house alone. You'll forget your way. You'll be run over by a moped."

"If that's how I go, then that's how I go," I reply. "Better than dying in that sagging chair, in that sad living room of yours."

"Mother...."
Dec 01
joseph.deffner's picture

Snakes


One fear of mine is snakes. The way they move and slither is terrifying. I don't know why, but it is terrifying. There are snakes so big that they can swallow deer or other large animals and I wonder if they would eat people? That is really scary. Also, there are snakes with venom in them that can slowly and painfully kill people. Imagine you are just walking along minding your own business, and all of a sudden a snake bites you. You jump back, but you can't do anything about it. The venom is coursing through your veins and it is the most painful thing you have ever experienced. Scary, right? Even worse, a boa constrictor strangles their prey to death and that would be an excruciatingly painful death. This fear has been with me my entire life. I think it would be very cool to go to the jungle, but there are snakes there and I makes me not want to go. One thing about this fear that really affects me is that if there is a snake outside I can't even go outside.
Dec 01
Dayne.greineder's picture

Facing Your Fears

People have asked me throughout my life, what are you afraid of? It seems to be a common question for the thought of knowing one's deepest fear, gives that person a sense of power over you now that they have the knowledge to break you down. My answer frequently changed from many things throughout my younger years. From the dark to heights to even death but over the course of my life I worked at those fears. Breaking them down until that fear seems now funny and harmless. Our mind tells us to be afraid, but why? How do I overcome these fears that control me? It wasn't easy or in anyway fun, but I was sick of fear running what I do. The key is freeing the mind of all negatives. We all have them but learning to make the negatives so small and innocent it’s easier to see passed them. By looking at the world with nothing but smiles and positive energy the fear seems to fade away. Now when asked what I fear, I'm stumped. As I look around everyone seems to know exactly what the answer is.
Nov 30
joseph.deffner's picture

The Dark

I'm afraid of the dark. I think it all started as kind of a tradition in America that kids are just afraid of the dark. It's not so much the dark itself. It's more what could be in the dark- like a ghost or a demon or a witch. I’ve gotten better at not being so scared of what's in the dark, though. But it's still terrifying because the dark is very mysterious and if you can't see what is in front of you or in the same room as you, your mind is going to imagine the worst thing possible... when it's really just nothing.
 
Nov 29
AnnaH's picture

Rosa

Rosa walks out of the house and into the crisp, cool, morning air. It was the first time she had been out in years. Her face wrinkles, as she squints to look up a the sun. The pigeons resting on the street flutter away slowly, as if they are too lazy to fly away from her. She clutches her handbag, and shuffles silently down the street. The old woman pulls her coat closer around her as she walked past the racks of drying laundry. She can see men quietly smoking on the side of the road, looking out onto the streets before heading off to the bars. She frowns, and remembers the similar habits of her son, many years ago. She looks down the street and can see the white dome of the church down the road, a place where she has neglected to go to in decades. She remembers the day she got married there, and though she would have love for the rest of her life. Rosa's eyes tear up as she feels the memories that start to surround her.
Nov 28
poem 5 comments challenge: Home
Quella's picture

Room at Home

She couldn't decide, said the walls
their three shades painted on like permanent shadows.
The photo on the wall of the first woman to win a marathon
says she wants to be someone one day
but the tiny rumpled corner of the massive bed
whispers that she doesn't like to take up space.
The layers of letters, photos, fairy lights, and poems
that cover her walls and ceiling say she likes to collect things,
and the warm wood of the floor and dim colors of the carpet
say she gets cold easily
and tries to heat her room with beautiful things.
The empty glass on her nightstand has drawn itself a ring in which to sit,
whispering that it's been there for weeks.
The mostly-empty drawers say she lives somewhere else now,
but this is still home, and she will come back.
On a shelf in the closet sits a stack of empty notebooks
next to a drooping backpack that says it could brave any adventure.

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