Comments Posted By vish

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Ah, what can I write about this? The very word elicits a flood of vivid memories, beautiful moments suspended in time to be remembered forever as times of light, unencumbered happiness. How can I ask for more?

» Posted By vish On 10.26.2010 @ 5:32 pm


It had been weeks since I’d last seen you, and I could feel it like a hole in my chest. The worst part was the uncertainty — would you still even want to look at me when you returned? Had you found something else to occupy your time? The endless questioning was practically driving me mad.

» Posted By vish On 10.24.2010 @ 4:25 pm


Stacks of wooden panels lined the edges of the room, which was still just concrete and drywall. The man stood in the middle, looked around, and sighed. Home improvement had always been a passion of his, but doing it alone suddenly began to seem thoroughly pointless.

» Posted By vish On 10.23.2010 @ 6:46 pm



She strutted up to me as I was reading and poked me playfully with her nose. I smiled, glanced at her, and patted her on the head. But this wasn’t nearly enough. Disappointed, she began batting at my arm with her (thankfully) declawed paws, insisting that I give her a thorough petting and back massage.

» Posted By vish On 10.22.2010 @ 6:24 am


I didn’t have much time to prepare, so I just tossed on a black button-down shirt and made some horns out of ice cream cones. I painted them red, and attached a tail to my lower back. The devil had arrived.

» Posted By vish On 10.20.2010 @ 7:15 pm


The process of finding and buying this coffee table had taken far longer than we had anticipated. We’d examined low tables, high tables, skinny tables, ornate tables, minimalistic tables, and even a flamboyant bright yellow table or two.

» Posted By vish On 10.19.2010 @ 5:16 pm


I looked at the tentacled monstrosity sitting on my plate and cocked my head to the side quizzically, as I often do. Poking at it with my fork, I realized I’d never eaten food quite as strange as this before. Shrugging internally, I put a morsel in my mouth and began to chew.

» Posted By vish On 10.18.2010 @ 5:02 pm


She strutted into the subway like she owned the whole damn thing and leaned toward me with a kind look in her eye. She asked if the seat next to me was taken. I looked at her, blinked a few times, and said it wasn’t. As she sat down, I couldn’t help but notice the way the yellow locks of her hair cascaded over the sweater she was wearing like a waterfall of molten gold.

» Posted By vish On 10.17.2010 @ 5:54 pm


With her long, bony fingers, the elderly lady began gingerly placing the unbaked, still-mushy cookies on the baking sheet before sliding it into the oven. Tossing her mittens on the countertop, she sighed and looked around for something else to do.

» Posted By vish On 10.13.2010 @ 5:21 pm


He tossed on the flannel jacket hanging from the hook next to the door, grabbed his axe, and began stepping out the door when a sudden wave of nostalgia struck him. He turned back and looked at the hook again, running his hands over its cold brass and thinking of when he had nailed the metal fixture into the wall, with the fireplace blazing happily behind him as his family chatted into the night. Shaking his head, he shoved the door open and stepped into the chilly autumn evening.

» Posted By vish On 10.12.2010 @ 12:01 pm


I drowned out the chattering around me and focused my attention entirely on the one conversation taking place a few tables away. She was angry. I could tell by the way her eyes flashed a tiny bit as he talked, surely asking forgiveness for yet another misdeed. He probably didn’t even realize — I think I knew her mannerisms better than he did, and probably even better than she did. But here I was, sitting a few tables away with some trophy of a girl instead of the one I craved.

» Posted By vish On 10.09.2010 @ 8:33 pm


Family outings for us were always difficult ordeals. Loading up the van with supplies our entire family of eight, managing every child’s needs and complaints — I don’t think I ever truly valued everything my mother did for us.

» Posted By vish On 10.01.2010 @ 11:44 am


It made a soft, corky thud as it slapped against the faux wood of the cheap coffee table. I set my cup on top of it, watching the steam eddying out from the brownish liquid before dissipating into the air of my living room.

» Posted By vish On 09.30.2010 @ 10:16 am


“May I see your shed-yule?” she inquired. I handed it to her, suppressing a giggle. She placed a pair of half-moon reading glasses on her nose, scrutinizing the piece of paper with a smug, squint-eyed look that only a elderly lady like her could pull off.

» Posted By vish On 09.28.2010 @ 1:55 pm

“May I see your shed-yule?” she inquired. I handed it to her, suppressing a giggle. She placed a pair of half-moon reading glasses on her nose, scrutinizing the piece of paper with a smug, squint-eyed look that only a elderly British lady like her could pull off.

» Posted By vish On 09.28.2010 @ 1:54 pm


He’s a slim, well-dressed saxophonist, bent forwards as he’s belting out a soulful and technically difficult solo with an ease that’s the true mark of a professional. Surrounded by the smoke swirling from cigarettes of patrons in the lounge, he is more of a silhouette than a man — a shadowy legend in the making.

» Posted By vish On 09.27.2010 @ 11:34 am


An image of a typical butler comes to mind, brandishing a meal covered with a graceful metal dome, with a handkerchief draped on his other arm and a look of smug sobriety on his face. He gingerly places the dish on the table, removes the dome with a pluck of his fingers, and announces its name softly as his customers crane their heads to examine the chef’s creation.

» Posted By vish On 09.26.2010 @ 7:23 pm


Slurp. Tongues tend not to actually make that noise when they are used on small items, such as postage stamps. It’s only when you’re licking something already wet or organic that that onomatopoeic sound emerges.

» Posted By vish On 09.25.2010 @ 3:50 pm


“Please wait. We’ll be with you shortly.”

Cue the generic lounge music. I never quite understood what that was for, anyway. Do they seriously expect us to sit around and listen to their music, and to be entertained by it? I’d much rather prefer to have silence, so I can listen to some music of my own.

» Posted By vish On 09.24.2010 @ 6:16 am


A dark, dingy motel with a flickering vacancy sign was the site of our first night together. Inebriated and lustful, we tore each other’s clothing off as if we could only stay together for a few minutes. We collapsed on the bed shortly afterward, our hands reaching for each other in desperation, trying to push away the world we had left behind.

» Posted By vish On 09.20.2010 @ 6:24 am


For a moment, I sighed, put the ax down, and took a break. It was a beautiful autumn day, and I’d been splitting logs in half for most of it. The leaves fluttering downward from the branches above had blanketed the ground in a crisp, orange layer that I laid down on, watching the amorphous clouds endlessly shift and reform themselves.

» Posted By vish On 09.18.2010 @ 12:55 pm


“And obviously, in this line, the author becomes a bit more reflective, using words such as ‘reflect’ and ‘contemplate’ to create a mood of reflection and contemplation. This sort of technique, this tone shift, is the most dramatic transition in the entire poem, and without understanding it, it is truly impossible to grasp the true sociological and geopolitical implications of this keystone piece of literature.”

» Posted By vish On 09.18.2010 @ 7:22 am


The man across the table from me sighed, as he twisted his cuffs around his wrists.

“Just don’t get too… involved. Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”

And that was that. End of discussion. In the back of my mind, though, I knew falling in love with the wife I was using as cover would be impossible to prevent.

» Posted By vish On 09.17.2010 @ 8:58 am


A fat man in a business suit leans back in his plush, comfortable chair and chuckles. For a moment, he has a tiny bit of existential thought. What brought him to this? What events in his life had changed him into this kind of person, the bully behind the desk laughing at and toying with his workers, with their livelihoods resting in his palms right before he crushed their futures? Before long, though, the moment had passed.

» Posted By vish On 09.15.2010 @ 2:05 pm


I leaned down and sniffed the reddish concoction in the bowl on the table, looking around first to make sure nobody was watching. It had a pungent aroma, which was interesting but certainly not very pleasant. Shrugging, I decided to ladle some into my glass. After all, having new experiences is what I was here for, right?

» Posted By vish On 09.14.2010 @ 7:08 pm


A ferocious dragon blocked my path through the hallway. I was mortified at first, but then reached into the pouch on my belt and pulled out a handful of magical jellybeans. As I dropped them on the ground, they began producing a field of beanstalks in the ground in front of me, which swarmed toward the dragon, assailing it with their magical, gelatinous might.

» Posted By vish On 09.13.2010 @ 5:12 pm


Come into the den, my dear. It’s warm, dimly lit with an effervescent glow, and it has me inside it. What more could you want?

» Posted By vish On 09.12.2010 @ 12:26 pm


There’s such a varied arrangement of those… Different shapes, sizes, colors, decorations, and styles, in seemingly limitless possibilities, hanging from the hat racks in the store I randomly stepped into. I marvel at the many ways I could adorn my head.

» Posted By vish On 09.09.2010 @ 11:37 am


That generic “enhh!” sound comes to mind, along with the flashing red X that indicates that you’ve just totally screwed up. The ball rolls down the ramp as you curse towards the heavens, protesting the cruel fate that the world has thrust upon you. Your last ball in this game, your cherished last opportunity to redeem yourself, slips down the hole and is lost forever.

» Posted By vish On 09.08.2010 @ 11:33 am


The typical image comes to mind, of a suburban mother taking a walk with her baby in the stroller she’s pushing in front of her. It’s rather stereotypical and narrow-minded, though. Why can’t the father do the walking? Why can’t societal norms be overturned? Why does there need to be a baby at all?

» Posted By vish On 09.07.2010 @ 11:57 am

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