Comments Posted By hope
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Little Marta sat squalling in the “Wicked Corner.” It was as usual: back to wall, knees up, tears and drool streaking through the dirt on her face and legs, her mother sitting ten feet from her watching her like TV. Then at last it occurred to Marta to turn the tables.
» Posted By Hope On 06.12.2019 @ 9:40 am
You move closer, hand on my right shoulder. Firm grip.
“Mistletoe,” you say. Your smile is easy and terrifying.
I say nothing. I want to pull back.
» Posted By Hope On 12.17.2018 @ 4:12 pm
ill f the mind, body or soul. Which is worse. coma. psychosis or just plain evil. you never know how one could be sick. and which one is the most contagious.
» Posted By hope On 09.16.2018 @ 6:37 pm
there was this sewer hole, with green glowing light coming out of it. what was in there? why was it there? am i imagining this? i had to go see what all this was about. the hole was behind a row of orange cones but what did i care. frick the police am i right? so there i am, peering into this giant green glowing hole in the middle of an empty road in the middle of the night. theres a bunch of dirt all around me, a couple construction machines and an unfinished building behind me. the street is lit with one far away emanating street light. a large figure starts to approach me from behind
» Posted By Hope On 06.10.2018 @ 8:34 pm
The wafer-thin mint, like the pin on a grenade… To his credit, Monsieur tried to refuse the mint. But the waiter wouldn’t take “No,” he’s the nicest bully you’ll ever know. A foodie terrorist. “It’s only one little thin one,” he says, knowing Monsieur’s gonna blow. “Oh alright…” *BLAM* The waiter runs, too late! He’s trodden in Monsieur’s barf bucket: true justice.
» Posted By Hope On 11.01.2017 @ 4:15 am
Beware the master manipulator, the grand withholder of any information you need to know about said master manipulator that could help you avoid or leave a relationship with one, mentally and physically intact. Here is what I know: tune in to your intuition, listen to it, and heed it.
» Posted By Hope On 10.30.2017 @ 4:06 am
We made preparation for our journey to the Circus of Life. We packed 9 six-packs of Hanes underwear should we piss ourselves laughing; 20 six-packs of cheap tissues because we’d heard there’d be a lot of tears; our sexy clothes for parties; our matte blacks for weddings; and our Sunday best and a CD of Berlioz’ Requiem for the final curtain.
» Posted By Hope On 10.29.2017 @ 4:37 am
It was a front side out, back side up, ceiling-to-floor, walls-blown-out sort of experience, and down the yellow brick road I went. Then it got all Mad Hatter and Red Queen for awhile, whereupon came the white coats with long sleeves. “What are these for?” I remember asking. One prick and instantly the Dormouse dropped his heavy lids over my eyes and we cut to black.
» Posted By Hope On 10.26.2017 @ 4:09 am
My Soul was infuriated. “What is this BLEAK vision I’m seeing?!” it yelled. “TV” I said. “You’re not doing ANY of the enriching things I’ve instructed you to do!” Soul said. “I’ll get to it,” I said. “The excuse of a LOSER!” “Wha–” Soul cut in, “No one’s going to BOTHER looking into your eyes, the very windows to ME, to see my BEAUTY, to see all the work I’m doing in good faith to get you to walk your intended path!”
» Posted By Hope On 10.25.2017 @ 5:54 am
Government, red tape, big cities, gritty south side, squalor, food stamps to feed the brood, donuts, cheese puffs, potatoes and macaroni, gang land, guns and drugs, expect to die before you’re twenty… Put your oxygen mask on first before assisting others and assume the crash position… Red tape to yellow tape and chalk lines…
» Posted By Hope On 10.16.2017 @ 12:38 am
The Clash, London Calling…The clash of the titans…The clash of the Males and Females since the beginning of time – the apple argument, a whodunit: the serpent/the devil or the humans or one or more gods from lore since the beginning of time…The clash of the dinosaurs with climate, like we are clashing now…the dinosaurs lost the battle, will we also become another extinction on Earth’s timeline since the beginning of…
» Posted By Hope On 10.15.2017 @ 7:35 am
Jake’s haircut is gruesome: sides and back buzzed, a large tuft at the top, as if his head’s an ear of corn, its tassel reaching for the sun. It’ll grow back, I said. It did, but only the tassel – I cut it off every day for a month. We visit the salon: they’re clueless. Month 2- Jake is freaking out. Month 3 – our calls, research, doctor visits: all fruitless. Month 4 – Jake’s on the edge. Month 6: I pick up the paper, “Hair Stylist’s Head Found In Creek Bed”
» Posted By Hope On 10.09.2017 @ 3:12 am
He cuts in line for coffee. He’s skinny and pimply yet trying to act like a big man – he’s punctured by rings and spikes yet trying to look together – the frayed threads of his armless jean jacket hang like torn tendons down his shoulders yet he’s trying to look worldly – his skin’s a canvas and I dig the art, but his pants look ready to fall off and I’m not ready for that level of visual assault, so I hit the street for the next cafe.
» Posted By Hope On 10.07.2017 @ 5:57 am
It’s tempting to gag my brain. Just seconds after the cat left the building it slowed to a doped-up crawl and I, the mouse, have lost my urge to scurry and forage madly. Brain says: Go on, zone out, just let me wander all over the place. I say: No can do, the cat will kill me when it sees I’ve done nothing. Brain says: Not true! You’ll have thought myriad life-improving thoughts that you can turn into reality and you won’t need this cat-mouse dynamic anymUNGHK
» Posted By Hope On 10.05.2017 @ 7:33 am
Oh hey, come on in Sunday, good book, great movie, grapenut pudding, warm turquoise lagoon and moisture-beaded Corona – Awesome to see you! Hey sexy jeans and ankle boots, slouchy gray sweats and soft, woolly bed socks – Yeah, sit anywhere! Bring it on morning, patio with ocean and mountain views, sun rising, fog lifting, steaming cup of coffee, awakening, dreaming, planning! Let’s PARTY!
» Posted By Hope On 10.04.2017 @ 4:50 am
Fading light, pretty through stained glass, shooting colored rays along the walls, across the floors — Fading jeans, entering a sacred realm, The Favorites, power clothing, that sees your ego to the moon, makes anything possible; they’re the “S” on your shirt, the bat ears on your head; they’re the ones that kill you when you need them and they’re unclean – Fading light, pretty through the eyes of one who has lived life well
» Posted By Hope On 10.02.2017 @ 2:54 am
Coffee hair rolled back from her face, tucked under a cream cap, both precarious but for a few candy-coated bobby-pins — it’s early, just time for eyeliner and bright red lipstick — her gray dress and white apron still crisp, her arms still silky and toned, her days lie ahead of her like an open road, no end to the sunsets — she smiles, raises a steaming pot, “Coffee?”
» Posted By Hope On 09.30.2017 @ 2:43 am
It went like clockwork, all the people spilling out of the building on fire and all the emergency services snapping into action, all clockwork until spiders from mars ate the firetrucks, washed them down with fire hydrant water, and for dessert they had the remains of the building, thought it nice of the earthlings to serve them a highrise flambe
» Posted By Hope On 09.24.2017 @ 2:38 am
Fields of clover, fields of danger, of dead things lying there, waiting to be found amidst live and beautiful things springing up: strawberries, marigolds, wheat and corn… Tilled fields, barren of all but Hope; fields of work, rides to the dungeon or the stars; force fields to be slammed against on a outer space trek. And if all these fields existed as one, would it be called Dystopia?
» Posted By Hope On 09.22.2017 @ 5:37 am
Under the pine tree, there was a deep hollow. Although the residents of the sleepy nearby town weren’t aware of it, this hollow was the symbol of all that was good and right in their country. Though few knew of the hollow, those who did were often inclined to keep the secret for themselves; for there in the hollow lie the purest form of magic, and that is what this story is about.
» Posted By hope On 07.27.2017 @ 7:08 am
OMG my clasp broke on my necklace. OMG now my watch clasp broke. What a terrific day I’m having. Let me check what else has a clasp on me today.
» Posted By Hope On 06.27.2017 @ 8:40 am
It was a simple home. I lived there for years. Never anything unusual. Until he arrived. He was the one who caused the hauntings. He was the one who unsettled the spirit. We lived in harmony for decades. Then he had to go snooping around and dig up buried secrets, and bodies.
» Posted By hope On 10.12.2016 @ 8:55 pm
Under the light of a single, crooked streetlamp, Eleanor Grey pulled her scarf up to cover her nose from the frosty midnight air. Her suitcase lay on the cold concrete ground at her side, and the bus sign illuminated a radioactive safety yellow even with only the dingy light to reflect from. This was all *his* fault.
» Posted By Hope On 02.12.2016 @ 2:37 pm
It was only 58* in the office and the snow was falling in tufts just outside the window. I stuck my hands down my shirt and tucked them into my armpits, jolting slightly at the feel of my snow-bitten appendages against the warm fold between my arm and torso. I sort of needed my hands to type, but I figured, ‘meh’, priorities, you know?
» Posted By hope On 02.04.2016 @ 12:10 pm
The elder’s mouth was set in a firm, grim line. His large, bushy eyebrows hung menacingly over his eyes, darkening them. The council itself appeared an ominous presence- their long silky black robes draped over their crooked frames as they glared down at their charge from their seats behind the oak desk perched on the riser.
» Posted By hope On 02.03.2016 @ 9:59 am
Her heels clacked against the smooth stone floor as she glided briskly down the corridor, her cape flowing behind her. Her mouth was set in a grim line and her eyes were dark and set straight ahead, focused on the gloom ahead.
» Posted By Hope On 09.10.2015 @ 9:13 am
The brunette shook her long tousled hair over one of her shoulder and walked briskly into the employee break room. Her last appointment hadn’t been one of her more pleasant ones. The client had been hairy and prone to making grotesque noises, all while calling her unsavory names. She was thankful she was a new masseuse and therefore wasn’t yet allowed to give her clients the “full treatment”. For someone who made a living giving happy endings, her own ending was far from satisfactory.
» Posted By Hope On 06.23.2015 @ 3:38 pm
Dom was walking along the shore of the Pacific and the sun had yet to rise. He’d been too wrapped up in his own mind to sleep. He couldn’t help but to think that the last few days he’d been significantly on edge. He felt as if he was just on the cusp of something. It had been months since he’d last seen Oliver and the closer it came to his visit, the more tightly wound Dom seemed to become. Today was the day Oliver’s plane would be flying in. He’d see Oliver again and everything would be right with the world. Until then, he would wait.
» Posted By Hope On 05.26.2015 @ 4:53 pm
The metal machine in the corner was the only source of noise in the white washed room. The patient lay in her bed, eyes closed, face peaceful, body still with the exception of the mechanical rising of her chest. A smaller girl sat at her side, hands buried in her auburn hair. The knowledge that her sister was just as still on the inside as she was outwardly became too much for her to bear, and a teardrop fell, making the slightest ‘plop’ as it hit the tile.
» Posted By Hope On 05.07.2015 @ 1:15 pm
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Under the pale moonlight, a girl in a wide brimmed straw hat strolled through the garden. She carried a pair of immaculate chrome garden shears and had an air of stiff authority about her. She plucked a single white rose from the thicket brush and gave it a sniff.
» Posted By Hope On 05.06.2015 @ 12:30 pm