Dec 06
jonesr's picture

Musical Path

As you walk down the path your steps slowly turn into a beat.  The birds’ tweets are like the sound of flutes. The wind is a quiet saxophone whispering in your ear, there’s a soft snap, snap, snap, as the violins pluck their strings when you step on a stick.  You move to the side as you hear a bass come running by at its own, very fast beat. But you still walk to your own pace keeping the beat of your own song. You get drowned out by all the trumpets and tubas trying to run the world, but if you listen closely you can hear the continuous thump, thump, thumping, of yourself, walking down the musical path.

 
Nov 01
jonesr's picture

Locked Away



I looked up and saw dark footsteps on the ceiling, I looked to the right and saw cries for help written all over the walls. I turned around and faced the door, with scratches all over it from all the people trying to escape.  The only thing in the room was a bed built into the wall, a mattress that was basically stapled into the frame. I didn’t know how I got in there, I just woke up and I was there, but I couldn’t remember where I was before when I went to sleep.