Voices and Reverberations

Voices and Reverberations

Pulsating hearts inspire voices and reverberations, echoing bliss and love.

All Hallows Eve

Fire-smeared leaves and Halloween teases with its toothy grin and wart-covered nose. Robots, cartoons, and giant birds wander the streets, gripping pumpkin pails and pillowcases. They are costumes as invitations for sweets that are not always sweet. Let’s smear some blood, dim the lights, light the candles, and finger the Planchette. Ask it what’s next. Goosebumps and games and dancing spirits!

Cookie

It is between my fingers. I open it up and lick its sweetness. The bumps of my tongue graze the smooth cream. I close my eyes and shut my mouth. I open my mouth and suckle it. The moist crumbs fall to my lips, kissing me. A sigh. A grin. It is the satisfaction of an Oreo.

Distractions

I was writing this assignment and saw a headline flash on Yahoo! so I clicked on it. I read the article. It was wasteful so I went back to the assignment. Then my stomach growled so I went to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of mint milanos. I ate it over my laptop and crumbs sprinkled on the keyboard. Ugh! I took a deep breath and blew hard. The damn crumbs scattered everywhere! I’ll clean them up later. I’m thirsty. I need coffee.

The Peeking

The book sat on the table behind the screen, peeking at me. I leaned left, then right, back towards the screen. I typed a few words and paused. I stole another glance. The book’s eye winked, his sultry lips smiled, and his index finger beckoned me. I closed the screen and shoved it aside.

Sheet

I force two chairs into my bedroom.

Shove them beside the wall. Their backs are eye to eye.

I unravel the sheet. It covers their heads.

And dangles and drapes, like midnight curtains.

I crawl inside and sit cross-legged.

And with both hands, I hardly press it.

It touches the floor. Skin to cloth.

The thump, thump, thumping footsteps nears.

And I form knuckles. They clench to white.

“Can I come in?” my father says.

A knuckle turns pink.

I release my fist.

I make a slight opening in the sheet.

Eggshells

He slapped her and turned everyone to stone.

He stole her yolk and left only eggshells for people to walk on.

She digs her toes into the shells and the fragments crumble.

She reaches for some pieces and he utters a laugh.

She quickly pulls back and tells herself to birth a new egg.

Inside the Bedroom

“What’s that smell?” my sister says.

“Shut up!” I snapped.

“What?”

A flexed eyebrow and vacant stare.

“He showers you know,” my mother says. “If it’ll help, you can open a window.”

My sister takes a few heavy steps, turns the lock, and after a slight struggle, shoves the window up.

“There! Some fresh air,” my sister says.

The biting December air chases the lingering stench away, but it fights its way back.

“Isn’t that better?” my sister says with shifting eyes and a forced grin.

I glance at her and don’t say a word.

Quell

I quelled my mourning, but it was only for a moment. The sadness had found its way back to me. It whispered in my ear, slithered through my veins, and grappled my broken heart. I liberated tears. And for a moment, I quelled my mourning.

Sailboat

The rain had finally stopped, and my origami sailboat was ready to sail. I rushed outside, through my front yard with my tattered tennis shoes pounding on the grainy, wet sidewalk. Leftover rainwater on the ground splattered on my faded jeans and the sailboat clenched in my hand. Then amid the amber rays of light, sneaking past the ashen clouds, I stared at the sailboat one last time before placing it on the downward stream. The sailboat quickly gained momentum, and as it turned the corner, it vanished from sight.


Voices and Reverberations (Revision 3 of 3)

Voices and Reverberations

Pulsating hearts inspire voices and reverberations, echoing joy and love.

 

The Peeking

The book sat on the table behind the screen, peeking at me. I leaned left, then right, back towards the screen. I typed a few words and paused. I stole another glance. The book’s eye winked, his sultry lips smiled, and his index finger beckoned me. I closed the screen and shoved it aside.

 

Quell

I quelled my mourning, but it was only for a moment. The sadness had found its way back to me. It whispered in my ear, slithered through my veins, and grappled my broken heart. I liberated tears. And for a moment, I quelled my mourning.

 

The Sheet

I force two chairs into my bedroom.

Shove them beside the wall. Their backs are eye to eye.

I unravel the sheet. It covers their heads.

And dangles and drapes, like midnight curtains.

I crawl inside and sit cross-legged.

And with both hands, I hardly press it.

It touches the floor. Skin to cloth.

The thump, thump, thumping footsteps nears.

And I form knuckles. They clench to white.

“Can I come in?” my father says.

A knuckle turns pink.

I release my fist.

I make a slight opening in the sheet.


Voices and Reverberations (Revision 2 of 3)

Distractions

I was writing this assignment and saw a headline flash on Yahoo! so I clicked on it. I read the article. It was wasteful so I went back to the assignment. Then my stomach growled so I went to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of mint milanos. I ate it over my laptop and crumbs sprinkled on the keyboard. Ugh! I took a deep breath and blew hard. The damn crumbs scattered everywhere! I’ll clean them up later. I’m thirsty. I need coffee.

Eggshells

He slapped her and turned everyone to stone.

He stole her yolk and left only eggshells for people to walk on.

She digs her toes into the shells and the fragments crumble.

She reaches for some pieces and he utters a laugh.

She quickly pulls back and tells herself to birth a new egg.

Sailboat

The rain had finally stopped, and my origami sailboat was ready to sail. I rushed outside, through my front yard with my tattered tennis shoes pounding on the grainy, wet sidewalk. Leftover rainwater on the ground splattered on my faded jeans and the sailboat clenched in my hand. Then amid the amber rays of light, sneaking past the ashen clouds, I stared at the sailboat one last time before placing it on the downward stream. The sailboat quickly gained momentum, and as it turned the corner, it vanished from sight.


Prose Week 9

Skip

Feel free to skip from cloud to cloud. It’s wondrous!

 

Tenacious Spirits

Tenacious Spirits search for truth using fervor and magnifying glasses.

 

Voices and Reverberations

Imaginary voices pulsate the heart, forces reverberations, and echoes love.


I Remember

I remember laughing at a girl who cried at the end of Old Yeller.

I remember crying so hard at my sister’s funeral that I couldn’t breathe.

I remember sitting on my bedroom floor playing video games.

I remember wearing my sister’s makeup for Halloween.

I remember getting drawn on at a party.

I remember my first camping trip. It rained the entire time.

I remember a winter evening searching for constellations.

I remember summers catching June bugs under the streetlights.

I remember smiles watching Saturday morning cartoons.

I remember blowing dandelions.

I remember pinching my lover’s lips.

I remember wishing my dad would rebuild our dilapidated tree house.

I remember making a dollhouse out of an empty Kung Fu noodle box.

I remember doing cartwheels on the beach.

I remember hiding under the covers.

I remember getting stung by a bee.

I remember Christmases.

I remember having fried chicken and lemondrops on my birthday.

I remember staying up until I couldn’t remember anymore.


Voices and Reverberations (Revision 1 of 3)

All Hallows Eve

Fire-smeared leaves and Halloween teases with its toothy grin and wart-covered nose. Robots, cartoons, and giant birds wander the streets, gripping pumpkin pails and pillowcases. They are costumes as invitations for sweets that are not always sweet. Let’s smear some blood, dim the lights, light the candles, and finger the Planchette. Ask it what’s next. Goosebumps and games and dancing spirits!

Cookie

It is between my fingers. I open it up and lick its sweetness. The bumps of my tongue graze the smooth cream. I close my eyes and shut my mouth. I open my mouth and suckle it. The moist crumbs fall to my lips, kissing me. A sigh. A grin. It is the satisfaction of an Oreo.

Inside the Bedroom

“What’s that smell?” my sister says.

“Shut up!” I snapped.

“What?”

A flexed eyebrow and vacant stare.

“He showers you know,” my mother says. “If it’ll help, you can open a window.”

My sister takes a few heavy steps, turns the lock, and after a slight struggle, shoves the window up.

“There! Some fresh air,” my sister says.

The biting December air chases the lingering stench away, but it fights its way back.

“Isn’t that better?” my sister says with shifting eyes and a forced grin.

I glance at her and don’t say a word.


Prose Week 8

Clouds

For an assignment, Mrs. Burnett said to stare at clouds. She wanted us to find shapes from the clouds. At home, I climbed on top of my dad’s car and stared at the blue sky. I saw a princess, a train, giraffes, hearts, and ice cream cones.

Quell

I quelled my mourning, but it was only for that moment. The sadness had found its way back to me. It whispered in my ear, travelled through my veins, and clutched my broken heart. I released tears. And for that moment, I quelled my mourning.

Apropos

Sometimes I laugh when something is sad. People glare at me and say that it is not apropos. Sometimes I dance in the middle of the road. People yell at me and say that it is not apropos. I raise my middle finger to those people and I say that it is apropos.


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