086: smoke

A lone cigarette rolls along the pavement, its final breath snaking through the cold air. Unaware of such a funeral pyre, the older businessman walking along the sidewalk steps on the burning roll of paper, as he rushes through the crowd. Without paying attention, the gentleman steps in front of a delivery truck, whose driver--a middle-aged man with little to lose in life--is so preoccupied with the radio dial that he fails to brake.

The cigarette, loosed from the now-airborne shoe, glides through the air and lands on the opposite sidewalk. Strangely, the smoke still rises...

085: teachers

"Is it all in vain, do you think?" he asked, staring outside the dusty window, one of the few remaining from the building's first construction. Many had already been replaced due to some form of violence or another, just as the people have been over the years, the younger man
thought. Turning to the older man, he winced as the weight of his words dawned upon him; here, before him, was a man who had braved this position for countless years before.

And yet, the answer surprised him.

"We can never know for sure," he began. "We can only hope..."

084: morning

Droplets of the morning dew roll off the blades of grass. The morning sun, still peeking over the mists of the horizon, shares its light with the shining beads of water. Sleeping beyond where eyes may see, the wind dreams of rain clouds only now being born.

The air is still. The shining blades are still. Only the little beads of light and water stir, gently disturbing all around them. Birds keep silent their songs, faintly listening as the rolling dewdrops create a gentle melody.

It is the music of the stars of the night, gracefully falling to the earth.

083: snowfall

He stands there, staring up into the cloudy night sky. Out for a nightly walk, the young man had stopped at the feeling of icy lips gently kissing his cheek. It hadn't taken long for the darkness above to burst; now, the faded greens and browns all around him are all hidden beneath the winter's crystalline embrace.

Others are rushing home, yet he stands, staring up into the cloud of stars descending to earth. Snow gathers in his hair, but the warmth of his smile thaws countless pairs of eager lips. Around him, the world is changing, drifting into dream...

082: deathless

Sitting on the head of a pin,
lodged inside some ant's muzzle,
resting deep within the yolk of an egg,
still waiting to be borne of a quail,
a quail trapped in the gullet of a plump fox,
who hibernates in the insides of a bear,
who,
in turn,
is locked away inside a metal cage,
sealed away in the otherwise empty shipyard container,
buried deep beneath the ground in an artificial cavern,
on a lonely island devoid of any life,
in the greatest expanse of otherwise empty sea...

...that is where you will find my very soul,
patiently waiting.

081: inspiration

Gracefully, she brushed her auburn bangs from her eyes with her fingertips. Bright, eager eyes half-focused on the notebook in front of her, as the product of her labors droned quietly through headphones--so quietly that none nearby could even hear.

It's missing something, she thought, and knew the reason why; no matter how hard the composer tried, her eyes would drift to the entrance, as a smile of anticipation and even hope would emerge.

Upon seeing him walk through the door, the composer beamed. Frantically, she set to work on the song; at last, her muse had arrived...

080: liberation

She didn't seem to mind when the waves stole away the top to her bathing suit. Normally, this would cause a panic, but the only other swimmers for miles were two young men busy enjoying each other's company. With no leering eyes upon her, the nymph smiled at the far-off lovers, and dove beneath the surface, intent on this strange feeling of exhilaration. Being alone in the open water like this, not having to cater to prudish sensibilities or primal desires, the swimmer barely noticed the floating top, drifting father out to sea.

All she could do was laugh...

079: relief

There was no way of knowing just how long her head had been on the keyboard, though the blinking cursor of the blank word processor served as a good indication of why. Undisturbed in her perturbation, the mass of auburn hair did not stir an inch when a hand started to gently pet her; only after a few uninterrupted moments of attention did she sway her head to move with the withdrawing hand.

"Frustrated?" chuckled a soft voice, who received only a nod in reply. Arms wrapped around the would-be-author, as she nuzzled the face next to hers...

078: youth

Clouds parted above, the last traces of rainwater slid down the tin roof and onto the wooden planks below. The group, somewhat restless and occupied in their own little ways, did not seem to take notice of the change in weather; between sleeping, reading, and card games, none of the porch-sitters even appeared interested in moving beyond the stoop.

Only when the young cat yawned herself awake did any of the assembled take notice of the emerging sun. Stretching her lithe frame, she rose from her perch and smiled.

"Hey guys," she purred softly, "we can do stuff again."

077: veterans

From a distance, he watched the battle below with the ancient eyes of one who had seen countless before. A calloused, worn hand stroked a beard older than most alive, as a deep, guttural sound of contemplation rose above the cries and clang of steel. Beside him, another bearded figure, just as stout as the observer, came forward to join the first.

Taking a long drag from his pipe, the second--the elder, given his gray whiskers--chuckled. "Seems that they'll never learn," he mused.

"Perhaps," the first bellowed, turning from the scene. "But who are we to teach them?"

076: clouds

Staring up at the clouds, the unlikely pair perched in silence upon the rocks. The smaller of the two--a woman, athletic in build, but with a certain grace--leaned on the massive shoulder of her companion, whose bulky metal frame blended-in with the stony shoreline. Both pairs of blue eyes reflected the endless expanse above, although the woman's bright smile better reflected the clouds so adored.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" she asked sweetly, glancing sideways to see where her companion's eyes focused. Like a child, the metal giant slowly nodded, silent, caught in some spell cast by water vapor...

075: blanket

"Are you cold?" she asked, not realizing that her companion had already stolen away most of the comforter. Though technically morning, there was no light other than the dim glow of some electronics, blanketing everything in a pale blue.

The youthful nymph was overtaken by a shiver, clutching her bare arms closer to her chest for warmth. Such was enough to cause a stir beside her, immediately followed by the young woman being engulfed in down. Beneath the cover, warm arms pressed her close against a familiar body, thawing her.

"Not anymore," came a tired giggle, followed by a kiss.

074: memory

Years had passed; yet, no matter the number of faces and voices whose paths would weave in and out of his own, he could never forget any of them. Granted, such a burden of memory did not serve him well during those moments of embarrassment upon the flicker of some lost shame, but friends long since vanished from his life knew that, upon returning, nothing would be any different than when they had last departed.

And yet, there he sat, a letter in his hand written in a familiar script. No face or voice came...but he remembered the name...

073: sisters

Wings all aflutter, the little butterfly came to rest on an outstretched finger, as flickering blues and yellows slowed in their movement. Seeing this, the young girl giggled in the charming way of youth, her blue eyes fixated on her newfound companion.

"Look," she called out, "someone likes me!"

Bending to see, her other companion, a young woman with eyes similar to the colors of butterfly wings, smiled at the little one's discovery. "That's wonderful," came her soft, gentle voice, "I guess that means he thinks you're pretty."

"But he's the pretty one!" the girl replied, as both started giggling.

072: twinkling

Little by little, the dust retired from dancing in the beams of light, coming to rest on the wooden floorboards. An unseen hand plucked threads of cobwebs, drifting between rafters despite the absence of wind. Silence threatened to reign over the scene, save for the faint twinkling of a metal comb, plucked by a dotted cylinder. Yet, the small, tinny sound was enough to breathe life into the otherwise desolate attic, as it repeated the only phrase it knew by heart--that song within every music box, lovingly shared by the turning of a key, echoing in countless unseen ears...

071: summon

Alone in the darkened chamber, she slowly awakened. A silhouette amongst shadows, her lithe figure rose from the curled-up position on the floor, blooming into a lotus. A quiet hum permeated the room, as numerous glowing masks of white gradually materialized into the surrounding air. Each mask, carved from the very shadows themselves, bore a unique expression with greatly exaggerated eyes and mouths; ever so slowly, the shapes began to revolve around her, keeping vigilance during the figure's meditation.

Suddenly, a great calm overtook the chamber, as the masks vanished.

"Soon," was all she said, curling-up once more.

070: shadow

Very cautiously, a shadow moved across the brick wall of the alley, a suspicious-looking act to any observer, as no object or being had been casting the shade at the time. Winding across forks in the path, it continued on its way, snaking through sewer grates and the rusty bars of windows, until coming to a stop at a well-lit street. It was here that the shade came to a stop, pausing as though to survey the surroundings of the urban maze.

Very slowly, a blackened head leaned outward from the dark projection, looking all about the alley...

069: pain

Eyes ready to burst at any minute, yet no amount of blinking or slumber will help. Such an affliction, a migration of pressure from the vast gray plains only inches away, is enough to push the normal tolerance of pain to a point of no return, where each moment is but a mere throb in an endless pulsation.


Lights out, but to no avail. The bursting forth of ocular components is imminent. Regrets swarm in the spaces between agony and despair, as the seeming crescendo of vitality is at hand.

Wait.

The aspirin is finally taking hold. Welcome, sweet rapture...

068: uncomfortable

It's four in the morning, and I'm awake again. Most of the night I've been drifting between all-too-brief sleep and restlessness, and though I'm no stranger to insomnia, this isn't something I'm used to.

I've been perching on the side of the bed long enough that the cold air is starting to hit me; what I get, I suppose, for sitting in just a tank top and shorts when the furnace is out. Better than the alternative.

Speaking of which, he's stirring now. People always warn you to "be a little picky." At least now I know why...

067: lost

Great white towers passed by in the distance, their long blades seemed to spin lazily over the sea. Staring out through the tinted bus window, the weary young traveler quietly sighed, itching his unshaven cheek as though each finger weighed as much as the bus itself.

"Wondering where it all went so magnificently wrong?" came a pleasant, cheerful voice. He turned to his slightly less unkempt companion, and, upon seeing her smile, chuckled.

"If that were true, would you be here?" he mused, barely concealing sorrow. Just as he finished, she had vanished, the seat empty.

"...no, you wouldn't be..."

066: athlete

Time and again, she had looked into the mirror, wondering if there was anything else she could do. This time was no different; viewing her body from every possible angle--to a point where an onlooker would think her narcissistic--her wide eyes scrutinized every inch of skin for that which wasn't lean or toned. Such had been the ritual since her youth, when she had been the only middle school student to have a daily, vigorous cardiovascular workout routine.

For a moment, she stared into her eyes' reflection. Memories of jolly, rotund parents, clutching at their chests, inspired tears...

065: outlaw

"So why do you wear the scarf all the time?" the young man asked his masked companion, whose spectacles reflected the flickering flames of the fireplace. True enough, the fellow was wearing a black scarf covering the lower half of his face.

"It's quite simple, really," came the reply, surprisingly clear through the fabric. "When you happen to be in my line of work, you find that a certain anonymity is necessary if you hope to retire peacefully."

Before the first could ask further, an arrow flew by, narrowly missing the masked face.

"See what I mean?" he replied, sighing...

064: draw

Worn-out leather boots kicked-up the dust with every step. In the distance, a few rough-looking figures readied themselves, hands ready to spring for their holsters at the slightest movement of the stranger ahead of them.

Even if his face hadn't been covered by a worn and dusty bandanna, any onlookers knew that the stranger wasn't about to flinch, his hard eyes narrowed at the men fixing to kill. Like a statue of a man twice his size, the gunslinger just stared, motionless.

If anyone blinked, they would've missed it.

"Amateurs," the gunslinger scoffed, as he walked away...

063: float

She had never felt such peace before: the cool, calm waters of the ocean all around her, she floated on her back and just stared into the endless blue above. Memories of younger days, playing carefree on the beach in the distance, came and left with the pulsing of the water. She had always been building castles in the sand with the utmost of care and precision, only to turn and watch in horror as the rolling waves crashed down upon her efforts.

Looking back while staring into the endless blue, she couldn't help but chuckle at such earnest dedication.

062: madness

The wooden chest rattles, untouched by human hand.

Never have I been the same since that night. Only now do I see my folly, my grave error, in not heeding the warnings given to me by the old man. Were he alive now, I imagine his laughter would deafen me...

The shaking intensifies, though nothing else moves.

Who was I to believe in such a power? How could I have known the rusted, hideous contraption served a purpose? But now, doom awaits us, damned by the machinations of my arrogance!

The chest bursts into splinters with an unearthly, maddening wail...

061: conquest

The smoke, at long last, started to clear from the land. Once fertile fields, under the burdens and pains of conflict, now laid barren for endless miles. The seas, once shimmering and blue, now were caustic to the touch, contaminated by acids of unknown origin. A stench of bile and rotting carcasses lingered over all; not even the wind, no longer playful nor innocent, would bear to whisk it away.

Nothing stirred; there were no stones or holes left for anything to have hidden under. A dead landscape for a dead world.

And yet, once, so many fought for dominion...

060: sweetness

The playful autumn breeze tousled about their long, flowing locks, as the sudden chill inspired the two to walk closer together. On the surface, they seemed terribly mismatched, as the raven-colored hair and ornate, almost Victorian dress of one seemed at odds with the simple, flowing skirt and blond hair of the other. Yet, hands clasped and arms locked, the two walked as one, smiling as only young lovers can.

"So...why me?" the darker young woman asked softly.

"Well...why me?" came the reply.

"Because you're you," the first giggled.

"Precisely," answered the second, kissing her.

Ah, love...

059: haste

Darting between shadows, he ran, blending-in with the darkness beneath a long, black coat. The hiss of vents and the rare passing of an automobile covered the sound of the runner's frantic footsteps, much to his relief. The wind started to pick-up, lifting the coat from between his legs and bringing an end to the swishing of fabric that may have penetrated the nocturnal ambiance. Now, if only there were a way to keep the rapidly-forming sweat from his eyes...

At that moment, there was no other choice left to him but to run.

So he did.

058: memento

The figure rested on the smooth, mossy rocks by the shore, with a three-fingered hand laying outstretched on the stone, glistening in the morning sun. In the other hand, clasped tightly, dangled a tattered and torn cloth, its color long since faded into ghastly pastels. The figure gazed at the artifact, with its single red lens somehow transcending mere machinery to produce a lone tear, running down the polished metal face. Turning away from the sight, the metal digits loosened their grip, as the breeze made its presence known.

The figure rose, as the wind carried away the cloth.

057: plummet

Always, it was the same dream. She'd be falling from some unknown height, deathly close to the outcroppings of rock surrounding her on all sides, with the whole bottomless world bathing in an unearthly blue glow. For what seemed like hours, she would be a slave to gravity, unable to find a single ledge safe enough to reach, until finally she would instinctively grab hold of one just perfect for her hands. As she would pull her small frame onto the cliff face, the same startling scream would rupture her ears.

Falling still, came the one needing to be caught.