Kylan

This is my response to Trident's Three Pronged Contest. But critiques on the story itself are always appreciated. _________________________________________ A cigarette dangled from the corner of Claud

This is my contest entry for Sam and co.'s Historical Fiction contest. I need all the help I can get on this! Thanks! _____ -"These are the times that try ...

Charlotte Ten minutes. Charlotte stared at the gun in her hand, wondering how much time had elapsed since the radio bulletin. Not long, she thought. Ten minutes was eternity. Ten ...

Benjamin Ten minutes. Carrying the wine glass stem between his fingers like a cigarette, Benjamin took a deep breath of the urban evening air as he climbed the staircase leading ...

March 3, 2008 Running. Clawing through the heavy, mustard-gas darkness that came away in spider-web shreds between his fingers, Vincent's fists and legs pumped up and down like pistons. His ...

Vincent inhaled deeply, shoving hysterics back down his throat. “Go to hell,” he whispered. The other flung his arms wide, hands out, and smiled even broader. “Let's go together, huh?” ...

Whiskey-plied voices cried fratricide!don't you know that you could've died(you should've died) -Andrew Bird, "Fake Palindromes" 1929; Part 1; [038. Knot] Outside, past the stained-glass windows that

And she's got red lipstick and a bright pair of shoesand she's got knee high socks, what to cover a bruise -Andrew Bird, "Fake Palindromes" Part 3; [028. Face] Lena ...

If you're six foot tall and east coast bredsome lonely night we can get togetherand I'm gonna tie your wrists with leatherand drill a tiny hole into your head Andrew ...

- and the basement smelled of old cigarette smoke and chipped paint. It smelled like sweat and urine – infecting the air like musky perfume – and the walls seemed ...

Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,Make tigers tame and huge leviathans Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. - The Two ...

Part 1 of 2 “They ought to put out the eyes of painters as they do goldfinches in order that they can sing better.” - Pablo Picasso Sara had her ...

“If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.” - Lord Byron Michel, who had painted his life all over the side of a wall from an aerosol ...

So I'm not sure if this is any good. I tried to write on a different topic for a change - something other than murder and torture and death and ...

Read this for context: ... anada.html ---- The darkness here is stifling. It fills my nostrils like ash and smoke from funeral pyres or crematoriums, like the smell of burning ...

"Israel must be wiped off the map" - President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad We have mushrooms growing on our skyline. Above us, stealth bombers clear their throats like speakers at college podiums ...

Eli aimed the gun to the woman's head with steady hands, even though it he felt as if someone was tugging on his nerve endings like kite strings coated with ...

i have lost my faith in washing machines. you know how when you walk into a laundromat and the incandescent lights are as bright as the soul of a child ...

[Picture #12] it is unrolled before me. a Persian rug with countless stories and legends and people woven inside of it. it is alive. it breathes. i have my eyes ...

New Orleans, Lousiana Our city's heavy and overheated tonight, like a fat woman sitting on her front porch steps under a Mexican sun, squinting her eyes into little pinto beans. ...

The character whose POV this is written from has been building up inside me for a while now and so I decided to uncage him for a little and see ...

A/N: Another experimental piece. Also, sometimes the italisizing doesn't work too well on entire passages, so for your reference, sections two and four should be italisized entirely. -- the moon ...

A/N: So here is the second draft. I would appreciate comments on any additions/subtractions from the story. I would especially appreciate the added passage of Gil's POV. -- – goddess, ...

Part One of Two | For Clo's Contest -- Buddy wakes up slowly. There is a musty taste in his mouth, and his jaw cracks open like the spine of ...

Part Two of Two | For Clo's Contest (A/N: This is a tad long, I apologize. I didn't want to split 2,000 words into two 1,000 word pieces. It's kind ...

I sit here on the steps of the old baptist church, crying a little bit. Th sun is so bright that it hurts to look at the white of my ...

(A/N: So here is my 'minimalist' piece, as promised. Gotta warn you though, I didn't follow my own rules. There are still some rough parts, but I hope you guys ...

In the east, the black hills hold the sun in their lap like the head of a dying comrade. The clouds fill out, fanning against the sky. There is a ...

for cal's contest Song: Losing Touch (The Killers) 022. exodus -- I.Characters and some events transpiring on August 1st 1.) (1975) The daughter. Rouged up cheeks, slender, throated wrists, and ...

III. Setting 1.) (1959) Sidewalk chalk. The broken, brown strands of grass plying out of the cracks. Heat lifting off of the roadway in looping, jiving distortions, disturbed like a ...

for cal's contest Song: Yankee Bayonet (I Will Be Home Then) (The Decemberists) 041. tragedy -- They carry Cal into the tent. Inside, there is a stooped surgeon with a ...

Song: The Rake's Song (The Decemberists) 025. antagonist -- They submerge me in the warm bathwater, knees and belly surfacing, my lungs collapsing like paper fans. I can barely breath. ...

A/N: definately a different plot format for me -- no one died. -- See the faces. All the ugly, smushed faces. The shriveled, crabapple eyes. Cheeks as red and swollen ...

The charcoal turns her feet black. She walks in the ruins of the old church, scattering the probing flies, the slinktailed coyotes with their pink tongues and their yellow, casted ...

i. He carries her in his arms as he runs. The bombs drop from the sky like overripe fruit and the city shrugs and sighs and the buildings kneel down ...

A/N: Two short shorts that I wrote on a whim. I wanted to explore a couple different characters and a couple different situations. Enjoy. -- Sunflowers [spoiler]Darkeyed Phoebe runs through ...

A/N: This is a different story for me. The layout was a little experimental, and if things don't make sense, let me know. It's strange -- I've been writing a ...

“Oh Polly, Pretty Polly, your guess is about right. Polly, Pretty Polly, your guess is about right. I dug on your grave the best part of last night.” Luther sang. ...

(I can still remember the blossoms of Phnom Pehn. I think about them now. You cannot take this away. Stomachs may shrink, shackles may chafe, wife and children may and ...

An impatient fly tapped against the glass of the door and the old fan spun, struggling against the heat, like a swimmer against a current. I sat behind the counter ...

I sit in the courtyard garden with Tabby in my lap. The tulips are red-headed traitors, bobbing, with bees in their mouths. The water fountain gargles, froths, sputters. Dragonflies land ...

across the stratospherea final message'give my wife my love'then nothing more – Peter Schilling, “Major Tom (Coming Home)” It is very cold. Hands won't barely move anymore, fingers tight, unfe

A/N: This is a vignette. Wrote a similar poem a little while ago...I think I only showed it to June. Sorry, this is a little long, and I was thinking ...