Paris, Japan, Hate, & Insignificance

I should be writing Delivering Hope right about now. I’m 30k words in, which is great. It’s far further along than I thought I would be after everything. But I’m not writing right now.

Instead, I’m wondering about humanity. Yesterday was Friday 13th. Bad luck according to many, but I don’t think luck had much to do with a lot of the horror of yesterday.

The lights in Paris are out.

And the rest of the world is sharing its grief in France’s national colours. Such is the sadness of our hearts.

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Just Tell The Truth

I don’t understand. Why does nobody tell the truth? Why don’t we all just speak our minds instead of hiding our true thoughts and feelings? If you want something then you go get it.

I figured this out in 2009. Not so long ago, I know, but at least it happened.

It may take me a long time to be sure on what I want or feel, but when I know that’s the truth of it I’ll go for it. I won’t give up, even if it means waiting for a very long time, because everyone deserves to be happy. And I would rather be happy and true to myself than a miserable liar.

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Flash Fiction No. 67


Doomed Youth

Liquorice. That’s what it tastes like. I close my eyes and try to enjoy it, but I fear I never will. Liquorice isn’t my favourite taste. I’ve always found it disgusting, but now I can feel the permeability within me.

The stickiness doesn’t shock me. It’s hot and thick.

I wonder why he wants me to do this, but I don’t ask. Questions can be answered later when my stomach is full and the dark whorls in my eyes have returned to their normal size. I suppose they might not become normal, though. Maybe they’ll stay like that.

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Sinful Flash Fiction: Wrath

Seven days…
Seven deadly sins…


Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t get the taste out of her mouth.

It had flashed across her brain, drowning out all rational thought, sucking in every ounce of her humanity until nothing was left. Nothing except the beast.

Salty tears collected on her stained lips, mingling with the metallic taste of blood. She hadn’t meant to.
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