Creative writing

https://www.maxpixel.net/Archaeological-Site-Columnar-Ruins-Ancient-3752038Archaeological Site Columnar Ruins Ancient The ruins talk. You can hear the echoes of ancient knights in their noises, never a language, but something universally understood: laughter, snarling, taunting, and if that doesn’t get the message across, their tone communicates everything you need to know. You hear the echoes of their past grandeur, every single rock glued into a tall and imposing structure the likes of which you cannot…

He’s walking along the sidewalk. Liam stands on the other side of the road, curiously gazing at him with green eyes, the same green eyes he possesses.  He doesn’t see Liam. But he hears Liam’s laughter, echoing through the air, ringing like churchbells he heard a long, long time ago. “Mark Coleman?” the lady from the front desk was watching him intently, and seeing as he looked up, smiled…

Adele Renault : Pigeon Portrait https://www.thisiscolossal.com/2015/11/camp-the-pigeon-oil-paintings-adele-renault/ A Pigeon Crouches on The windowsill Scheming something bad With its eyes half shut and Gleaming like a fire from Enferno, like the lord of underworld goaded him to perch on my window and to  find out my deepest crux

by Lennart Whittstock First ignore their grotesque limbs, with odd proportions twisting in ways that should be impossible, fingers uncountable but somewhere around five, probably, shrinking and growing and long and sharp. Ignore their hooked elbow-like structures always changing, ever-changing, do not watch their shoulders melded into the right sockets and ignore the ripped flesh a little bit lower, like something misplaced.  Second do not look at their faces,…

Photo by Noelle Otto https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-person-covered-with-brown-textile-906052/ “What do you mean?” Daniel snapped his head up from his plate, eyebrows knit together. The fingers he held the knife with turned white, as he tried hard to stop himself from snapping the knife in half.   “What? This is what I mean. I feel great, and you should too. Finally, for once, they agreed on something. I’m so tired of hearing them arguing…

A drop of sweat tickles my back. I fidget and try to get it off. The annoying thing just slicks down behind my shoulder blades. The air is stuffy in the car, and Mother refuses to crack a window. Something about my ears and hospitals. I swear I can squeeze the air and make some candyfloss. What would it taste like? “Jimmy, stop wrigglin’! You’ll get crumbs on the…

First, you died.  Well, probably. How else would you still be here? You drift around the yellow caution tape, morbidly curious about how you died, yet still unwilling to know for sure. The splatters of blood scare you. You walk- no, float- down, and find your funeral, with your loved ones standing still in black above a plain closed coffin. You did not know you- they could afford it.…