Comments Posted By maria
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Efficient was the only word one could use to describe her as she bustled round the kitchen, layering pan over pan and cookie sheet underneath the oven, where it usually stayed. Cutting boards seemed to move themselves to the sink, washing themselves under her direction. Knives peeled, chopped, moved to a tune she was humming, and the sauce on the stove seemed to sing the melody.
Efficiency was the only word for it.
» Posted By Maria On 09.20.2013 @ 7:15 pm
Strung up on a pole, dancing in the snow, jumping round and laughing…
Strung up in a hole, jumping on the snow, dancing round and laughing…
Sometimes rhymes are the most disgusting things on the planet. Sometimes I don’t know where the songwriters come up with these things. The song referred to a young man in wartime, and it was not pretty. Not pretty at all.
» Posted By Maria On 08.29.2013 @ 8:16 am
Infinity sometimes seemed like a very short time. Certainly it seemed so now, as he looked out once more to see the horizon. As usual, it wasn’t there… but the stars that he was looking at as he perched upon the asteroid seemed to be laughing at him.
He knew, though, that infinity would, contrary to popular belief, end some time. Some people could not abide that.
» Posted By Maria On 08.19.2013 @ 4:11 am
The grain silo loomed over the horizon and he kept walking toward it, because it shined in the sun and because that was where the gold was.
He walked despite the fact that the blisters on his feet had formed blisters, despite the fact that every muscle in his hamstrings was telling him that he should stop and rest before he died of exhaustion, despite the fact that the voice next to him was telling him there was nothing in the grain silo but musty, old grain.
He didn’t know why he was so set on this. After all, the farm had been abandoned for decades. The shine was only in his imagination.
» Posted By Maria On 08.17.2013 @ 10:12 am
Indecision wracked them. She looked toward him, then toward the child, then they both looked toward each other again. And he looked toward the child, a bit nervously, wondering whether or not their decision was the correct one.
She took a deep breath, looking him straight in the eye. Her eyes no longer wavered toward the little boy playing with a rattle in the middle of the street. His eyes became dull as he watched her, and he took a deep breath also.
Taking her hand, he and she turned away from the little boy child.
» Posted By Maria On 08.18.2013 @ 4:48 am
A show of solidarity would not hav egone amiss, but the family didn’t seem to understand that. Despite the fact that the man was watching them, eyes narrcowed, they continued to disagree about anything and everything, seemingly not caring that this was one of the most important days in their rather boring lives.
But the man kept watching, seeing how the siblings fought amongst each other, how the parents shouted, and ohw the grandparents banged their walking sticks.
» Posted By Maria On 08.20.2013 @ 4:20 am
Savage heartbeats. Is that a terminology that can be correctly used for this situation? I don’t know. But my heartbeat is beating as if it thought itself the tribal war drums, so I’m going to use it. Tribal wardrums are beating in the distances. Perhaaps they are the ones that sound like my heartbeat, rather than my heartbeat sounding like them.
And the savages are walking through the woods, so silently that even right next to them I cannnot hear them, looking for me.
» Posted By Maria On 08.21.2013 @ 4:18 am
National statistics for freezing in the meat locker of your own butcher’s shop probably indicated one in a billion deaths.
My mom always told me I was one in a billion. She told me billion because she thought million was over-used, and because it wouldn’t mean anything otherwise.
Mom, you were right.
» Posted By Maria On 08.23.2013 @ 4:24 am
The country where we belong to
» Posted By Maria On 08.22.2013 @ 9:24 pm
The narrative of that story had always been rather eak. The narrator seemed to think it a hood idea to alienate everyone he’d ever met, which… perhaps for some people, was a good idea. To him, it was rather ridiculous and a bit strange. Perhaps, to some people, it would have been a good idea for him to start thinking before he spoke, but the narrator had never thought of anything he ever said as rude.
To give one an example:
“The dog was being stupid in barking, but Rod thought he was even more stupid than usual, so he blew a horn into the dog’s ear.”
Rod, of course, never did any such thing.
» Posted By Maria On 08.24.2013 @ 6:26 am
The footage clearely showed the man looking, peering into the camera. Then, the footage simply showed him disappearing.
“Um…” said Jane, “Are you sure this is what we’re looking for?”
“I’m sure.” I said, nodding firmly as I clicked the rewind and then the play button. Look at his eyes.”
“what about them?”
Jane looked. Jane knew better than to argue with me when I was like this. Everyone knew better than to argue with me when I was like this.
“Just a bit.”
» Posted By Maria On 08.26.2013 @ 4:38 am
“Yes. Distress.” he said, nodding, “Different from eustress, which is completely different and sometimes preferable.”
“Yes.” she said,
“We seem to be rhyming.”
“Not any more.”
“Are you fond of tea?”
“Why no, no more than reason.” she said,
“Oh.” he said, then paused, and reached out for a crumpet. “What of crumpets? Dost thou like them?”
“No more than reason.” she said, with a categoric shrug.
“Oh.” he said, then huffed, “It’s very hard to make conversation with you, milady.”
» Posted By Maria On 08.11.2013 @ 6:33 pm
“You believe you had justification to come waltzing into my front door, expecting to lie not only to me, but to my BUTLER, who really– what made you think you could lie to the butler?”
She breathed in deeply, and decided to tell the truth, “I wasn’t really worired about the butler.”
“Why? Because he’s the help?” his tone, everything about him, told him he was expecting something rude to come out of her mouth.
“I didn’t know you had one.”
“Didn’t know I had one!”
» Posted By Maria On 08.10.2013 @ 7:53 pm
Sundried tomatoes in oil.
He’d never liked them, but she ate them slowly, reverently, on bread and in the midst of eggplants and with cucumber salad. She ate them whenever she could get them, and as she ate them, she too, seemed to grow more wrinkled and bent, more shriveled and bright (the brightness came from the oil; they both knew that).
And despite the fact that every day she looked in the mirror, she didn’t stop eating them. “I’m growing old anyway.” she said, “I might as well enjoy it.”
» Posted By Maria On 08.09.2013 @ 5:59 am
“It’s a worthwhile endeavor, I assure you.”
“Is it?” I asked, looking him up and down.
“I’m in need of a housekeeper.” He said, “And I don’t think you’re going to try to steal my rubies again. Are you?” he fixed me with a stare that told me that if I did, I would be in trouble. It made me shudder, though I managed to hide at least part of that from him.
“Good.” he said, closing his snuff box. “Because you really cannot, and your boss would find you if you left this house.”
» Posted By Maria On 08.07.2013 @ 6:47 pm
Fasting. I’m fasting right now, actually. It’s for August 15th, which is my nameday. We usually fast every year from August 1st to August 15th, and usually we go vegan… which is why I don’t understand when people complain about going vegan.
I’m vegan most of the year (about 50-60% of the year, actually), and I have absolutely no problem with it. Probably because my family (my mother, mostly), has been fasting since I was born.
It’s a thing, I guess. I really want to have some cookise, but I don’t.
» Posted By Maria On 08.05.2013 @ 7:34 pm
“You see, that’s the problem!”
“You! You… delve into other peoples’ secrets. You think you can find out all about them. Well, you can’t. I’m my own person. You can’t find out about me just by opening me up like a book and reading me. I’m a person with secrets and hidden codes in my pages, and–”
“You’re taking the book analogy a bit far, Dave.”
“I am.” he said, and paused, his finger in the air, “But that does not diminish my argument. You cannot simply tell me what I feel when you’ve known me less than twenty four hours!”
» Posted By Maria On 08.04.2013 @ 7:02 pm
“You captivate me.”
“Hmm.” she said, waving her fan in front of her face. “Do go on.” she said, though her voice was bored.
“Enough about my eyes.” she said, “I’ve heard enough about my eyes to last me twenty lifetimes.”
“Not those either.”
“Can no man think of something truly original?”
He laughed, bent even further down so that he was almost biting down on her ear, “Should I start with your breasts, then?”
“Those, too, have been mentioned too many times.”
» Posted By Maria On 07.31.2013 @ 6:55 pm
She captivated me. The way she carried herself, so mysterious, so eloquent, was always strange to me. Her existence led me to ask the most intriguing questions, to write sentences after sentences that explained her crazy ways. However, at the end of the day, she was constantly just a stranger whom I’d never get to know.
» Posted By maria On 07.31.2013 @ 3:55 pm
“Oh, well, he’s rallied.”
“His health’s never been good.”
“No, never.” she jabbed a needle into her embroidery, “Sickly since the day he was born.”
“But, he’s rallied. Might live to see his wedding day, the poor boy.”
Knowing the poor boy was thirty, and still unmarried, Mary doubted he’d have a wedding day in his lifetime.
“Carries on, though, from father to son. His father was sickly too.”
“Can’t help it, though. Wonderful title.”
» Posted By Maria On 07.30.2013 @ 6:14 pm
The flower bloomed in August. It wasn’t the typical time of the year for it to bloom, so all of us gathered around the little plant and wondered what was going on. Maybe, just maybe, it was as confused as all of it. Maybe, just maybe, the doubts and fears of my family had evaded the house, traveled through the mud, and intoxicated the beautiful flower, which was blooming out of time.
» Posted By maria On 07.28.2013 @ 11:41 am
“Yes. It’s the thing. The rage, I believe. It would be the rage, isn’t it? What year are we in?”
She frowned. “Hmm.”
“I always forget. Some people forget if it’s a Monday or a Tuesday. I forget what year I’m in. I don’t really change, you know, so it’s hard to keep in mind exactly what time period I’m in.”
“Time period. You know the thing, don’t you? Don’t worry.” he said, seeing her expression, “You do? I probably shouldn’t have used that wording. You don’t understand.”
» Posted By Maria On 07.26.2013 @ 5:58 pm
Dot. Dot dot dot dot dot. They went across the paper, one by one, a period after a period after a period, and he stared at them as they did so.
He raised his finger from the key, then paused and pressed it down again, hypnotized by the pointless array of dots across the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“On what?” she asked, kissing the back of his neck. “Isn’t it boring?”
“On the fruitlessness of everything.”
“Writer’s block.” he said, and pressed the key down again.
» Posted By Maria On 07.25.2013 @ 8:00 pm
The cat was meowing at my feet, but I didn’t move a muscle. It probably wanted food, but I didn’t have any at the house. Why was it that my old aunt had left me with that animal? If she had known me, she knew I wasn’t fond of animals. But she hadn’t. She had my name on her will – to give me that stupid cat -, but she had never spent more than one minute with me. She didn’t know my voice. But she thought about leaving me a damn cat.
» Posted By maria On 07.22.2013 @ 11:38 am
Compiling things into a group of everything it needs to be. Constantly changing, growing into something you were working towards since the beginning. A record of growth.
» Posted By Maria On 07.06.2013 @ 10:56 pm
Creativity is what is needed at this point. Of course, I’m not certain what creativity is. It could be standing everyone’s expectations on their head, or doing what everyone expects in a way they’re not expecting.
It could mean letting someone else doing the work, and simply providing the direction. Of course, their creativity will be better than mine because they are young and still haven’t been forced into the box I have put myself into. I like the box. THe box is safe, and brown, and one can always IMAGINE something there without drawing a wrong line.
So they will be the creative ones, and I will simply watch, and wait, and make sure they don’t hurt themselves.
» Posted By Maria On 07.05.2013 @ 7:20 pm
it’s the wish of a creative person that every moment is spent creating, an object, a meal, a life. IN the end, it’s all creativity, all an experiment, life, all of it. in the end, we’re always creating; we’re all creative.
» Posted By Maria On 07.05.2013 @ 2:41 pm
THe manifestation of the disease was ravaging her body. Translucent fingers, translucent feet… a pale face, large circles under the eyes…
Yes, she was ravaged by that disease. Sometimes things would have been easier if she’d simply died when she was supposed to. But she hadn’t gotten the hint… and the disease had come, to make certain she did as she was supposed to do from the beginning.
» Posted By Maria On 07.04.2013 @ 7:58 pm
“State your intent.”
“My intent.” he said, tasting the word. “what is this intent?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Miya said, glaring a him, “Just answer the qusetion.”
“but what does it mean?”
“You know what it means, so stop acting like an idiot. What is your intent?”
“Intent in what?” he asked, and began counting off on his fingers. “Intent in abducting you? intent in showing up here in the first place? Intent in feeding you? Which aspect of this adventure are you asking about my intent on?”
Miya huffed, “Why did you abduct me?”
» Posted By Maria On 07.03.2013 @ 7:37 pm
Back To Stats Page
“Damn it, stop being so willful!”
“I’m never willful. Leave me alone.” he said, and shrugged the other man away.
“Listen to me, and listen good.” said the first, grabbing his shoulder to whirl him around, “You look in my eyes.”
The boy looked, glaring, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You be careful with that thing you’re carrying. Got it? It’s dangerous, and I won’t have you screwing anything up.”
“Yeah. Now fuck off.”
» Posted By Maria On 07.02.2013 @ 7:57 pm