Out of the dreary corridor crawled the most elusive and vile creature to ever walk this planet. She was but poison to the lips of many but the very everlasting quinch of thirst to those brave enough to unravel her .She was eternity.
I peered down the droning corridor and although I could not see her, I felt her presence. The air seemed to evaporate and my mind drowned in its own thoughts.
The corridor was long and empty. No one had been there in a very long time except for the spiders and bugs that created their nests and webs in the corners. It had been so long since someone had been there that it wasn’t even thought of anymore, and neither was the building it was in.
The corridor is long and there are no doors or windows. I’ve been walking for hours and haven’t seen another soul or the first hint that there is an end coming soon. I don’t dare turn around tonight, however. With the moon this full and the veil so thin, I can’t turn back.
I was walking in a corridor, or was it a hallway? I wasn’t too sure, it was very dark at the time. As I’m walking down the dark path I heard a drop of water ping of the ground, and that’s when I realized I got myself into something bad.
Beyond the pitch black darkness someone–or something–is looming just behind them, waiting to strike at the right time. It has been 13 hours since they ventured down this corridor which mysteriously appeared at the basement of his house.
“If this is hell–or the way to it, it’s not as warm as everyone thought it would be.” his fellow spelunker exclaimed.
He had a point. Logically, the deeper you go beneath ground, the warmer the conditions it would be because there’s less air below. But the circumstances are the exact opposite here, the deeper they delve into the darkness, the colder it becomes.
But he’s less worried of the abnormal room temperature boggling their minds and bodies. He’s more worried of that thing–or creature–that’s stalking them since they came down here. Whether it’s just his imagination or someone else is really down here, he’s prepared for the worst.
She walked down the hall, carefully moving as to make as little noise as possible. As she approached the door, she could hear soft breathing behind it. The house was so quiet that it could have been mistaken for her own. She peaked in and looked down at the small girl, sleeping in a ball on the floor. Where she had come from was still a mystery. But for now, let her sleep.
She walked and walked down the dark corridor looking for the light. Though it grew darker instead of brighter. She kept walking believing if she did, that eventually she would see the light again.
I looked down the corridor once again, thinking I had heard laughter yet there was no one to be seen. I continued on my way, glancing back periodically, as the feeling of being watched couldn’t be shaken off. Little did I know that I shouldn’t have been looking back, but forward.
You will never now how long that corridor is if you sit in the same room doing the same thing over and over agian. Get out there and explore so that you can learn what other rooms you are expected to be in. They may be nicer than the one you think you are stuck in now.
As I walk through a dark corridor, all I can think of are the confines of my mind, and how strangely comparable they are to this place that I walk through. It envelops me, like a blanket, like a warm hug from someone I love, but at the same time it’s very bitter. Like that blanket is actually trying to protect me from a ghost, and that warm hug is actually a lingering memory that’s connected with constant sadness.
The corridor led to a pocket in space time. Rachel could not identify where in the structural stream this was located but she knew that she was in a lot of trouble. Her comm broken, there was no way to go atemporal for help.
A dark corridor. I am all alone and I can barely make out what’s in front of me. However, the dim lighting from above reveals the color of the walls. The walls are blood red. I begin
There was a sense of somebody looming in the corridor, loitering with intent that the teacher could see through the narrow strips of the window in the door. It was the director of studies who was so often the bearer of bad news.
She ran down the corridor, trying to catch the air in her lungs. If she stopped now, she knew that it would catch her. What she didn’t know was that it was too late, it was waiting just behind the door she was desperately running towards.
The corridor is empty. Nothing but darkness and silence welcomed me as I carefully walked down the hall towards the looming black curtain. I swallow my fear as I stand before it. Behind this curtain is my future, my destiny, my husband. I take a deep breathe and push them to the side.
I was driving down the corridor when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him. It was the mailman that I had been seeing for the last week. He seemed to be following me everywhere. I was starting to get a little freaked out by this point as it had almost been an entire week that this was happening.
Your lips are still touching mine as we stumble into the hall. We’re kissing and giggling and bouncing off the walls like a pair of magnetic pinballs and for some reason we both find this ridiculously hilarious.
When we stumble through the bedroom door, we discard our clothes in the span of a few trip-steps toward the bed. Then, we lose our minds to the drag of nails across flesh and the resonance of our hearts beating in tandem.
We’ve been waiting all day for this. We went so far as to plan a date and actually go on it, believing somehow that it was required to justify the speed at which we’d fallen (in love) into bed together.
And it was definitely worth the wait …
Afterwards, when the room is quiet and still, I trace the scars across your chest with my fingertips and ask lazy questions —
“Did it hurt?”
“Don’t you miss your breasts?”
“Do you regret it?”
And you punctuate each answer with a gentle kiss and a smile. With my curiosity is sated, I hmmm softly and snuggle into your shoulder and listen to you breathe until it lulls me to sleep.
The late autumn sun slanted in through the windows, bathing the far wall a deep orange and elongating the shadows into long, inky limbs across the floor. In fact, the shadows lining the alcoves of the corridor were so dark that she almost didn’t notice him until he stepped out in front of her.
She knew that she should be irritated or surprised at the very least, looking up at his carefully impassive expression. But she could feel the anger practically radiating off him, and suddenly she found herself simply feeling nothing but unspeakably tired.
It would be a long night.
There is a room, inside of my home. I see it as i pass the dining room and on my way to the kitchen. It smells like a basement, and is as dark as the night sky. Its a place i would never want to live. The corridor. The dark and mysterious life beyond the inside of the house.
I sttod at my corridor, watching nothing. As if I have emptyness all over me. What do I do now? I am tired of being alone. being lonely. I want to be with someone. But not just anubody. It must be somevody who loves and cares. Yes I want to astra
The corridor opened up wide to show the expanse of grass outside the door. It was beautiful, the light shimmering and dancing off the blades of grass. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but where I was. Drugs can do that to you, but the door doesn’t open. So you also feel trapped and alone, but drugs make it better, the tunnel opens up for you and the possibilities are endless.
The man walked down the distorted corridor. His reality was shifting again. It hadn’t really been stable since he started experimenting with his software.
He opened the door and appeared in a halo of soft red light. I could smell him instantly, the heady mix of pure white soap and the musky scent of his skin, his neck. That magnificent neck. Without a word he reached out his hand so that he found my face at the end of his fingertips. He closed his eyes and drew my lips to his and we stood motionless in that way, joined by our breath, terrified of what we were feeling, for the longest time. As he led me down the corridor, painted the same burgeoning red of the inside of a grapefruit, I could feel myself falling, succumbing to inevitable heartbreak and all of the unimaginable pleasure that would come before it.
the wood groans against my weight and the sound makes me cringe. as if this corridor could get even scarier. i see my bedroom coming up in the candlelight and let out a sigh of relief. after staying up late exploring grandma’s old mansion i could use a good night’s sleep. it easy enough to slip through the door. being dead really makes travel easier
Grinning, I sprint down the hall, around the corridor, and smack! Right into a wall. Or what felt like one. As I fall to my certain doom, a hand shoots out and grabs me, helping me from falling. “I am so sorry! Thank-” I look up, “-you.” He’s gorgeous. I mean, drop-dead, scan-bam gorgeous. And I know him. “Thanks Nick! I am so-” He shakes his head laughing. “You’re fine, no harm done! Come on, I’ll walk with you to Chem.
As he walked along the street and turned along the corner, he decided to cross the street. Walking and seeing there would be no car at this hour, he had a slow tempo. Reaching the other side of the pavement he realized there was a newspaper laying on the ground. “Corridor” was the first word to strike his mind, knewing it was a sign, as he picked it up.
In the corridor the evil teacher laughed as I hid behind the locker door. She still hadn’t seen me in the few minutes that I had been across the hall from her. I trembled and tried to breathe softly.
Down the narrowest corridor, there was a village built from gold. But all the people there were gold, too. Their hair dropped down in flaxen rings that barely caught the light of the outside world. As beautiful as they were, they were trapped among stone walls, their huts and hovels built from the shrapnel and crystals dropped from cavern ceilings and slopes. When asked why they remained here and not out in the open, they replied, “We were deemed too precious for the world.”
Out of the dreary corridor crawled the most elusive and vile creature to ever walk this planet. She was but poison to the lips of many but the very everlasting quinch of thirst to those brave enough to unravel her .She was eternity.
I peered down the droning corridor and although I could not see her, I felt her presence. The air seemed to evaporate and my mind drowned in its own thoughts.
The corridor was long and empty. No one had been there in a very long time except for the spiders and bugs that created their nests and webs in the corners. It had been so long since someone had been there that it wasn’t even thought of anymore, and neither was the building it was in.
The corridor is long and there are no doors or windows. I’ve been walking for hours and haven’t seen another soul or the first hint that there is an end coming soon. I don’t dare turn around tonight, however. With the moon this full and the veil so thin, I can’t turn back.
I was walking in a corridor, or was it a hallway? I wasn’t too sure, it was very dark at the time. As I’m walking down the dark path I heard a drop of water ping of the ground, and that’s when I realized I got myself into something bad.
Beyond the pitch black darkness someone–or something–is looming just behind them, waiting to strike at the right time. It has been 13 hours since they ventured down this corridor which mysteriously appeared at the basement of his house.
“If this is hell–or the way to it, it’s not as warm as everyone thought it would be.” his fellow spelunker exclaimed.
He had a point. Logically, the deeper you go beneath ground, the warmer the conditions it would be because there’s less air below. But the circumstances are the exact opposite here, the deeper they delve into the darkness, the colder it becomes.
But he’s less worried of the abnormal room temperature boggling their minds and bodies. He’s more worried of that thing–or creature–that’s stalking them since they came down here. Whether it’s just his imagination or someone else is really down here, he’s prepared for the worst.
Love blossoms ,stems apart from the hearts
She walked down the hall, carefully moving as to make as little noise as possible. As she approached the door, she could hear soft breathing behind it. The house was so quiet that it could have been mistaken for her own. She peaked in and looked down at the small girl, sleeping in a ball on the floor. Where she had come from was still a mystery. But for now, let her sleep.
She walked and walked down the dark corridor looking for the light. Though it grew darker instead of brighter. She kept walking believing if she did, that eventually she would see the light again.
I looked down the corridor once again, thinking I had heard laughter yet there was no one to be seen. I continued on my way, glancing back periodically, as the feeling of being watched couldn’t be shaken off. Little did I know that I shouldn’t have been looking back, but forward.
Empty, untraveled. Longing to be explored even if it’s not worth the effort or time. Just to have a purpose
You will never now how long that corridor is if you sit in the same room doing the same thing over and over agian. Get out there and explore so that you can learn what other rooms you are expected to be in. They may be nicer than the one you think you are stuck in now.
As I walk through a dark corridor, all I can think of are the confines of my mind, and how strangely comparable they are to this place that I walk through. It envelops me, like a blanket, like a warm hug from someone I love, but at the same time it’s very bitter. Like that blanket is actually trying to protect me from a ghost, and that warm hug is actually a lingering memory that’s connected with constant sadness.
The corridor led to a pocket in space time. Rachel could not identify where in the structural stream this was located but she knew that she was in a lot of trouble. Her comm broken, there was no way to go atemporal for help.
A dark corridor. I am all alone and I can barely make out what’s in front of me. However, the dim lighting from above reveals the color of the walls. The walls are blood red. I begin
There was a sense of somebody looming in the corridor, loitering with intent that the teacher could see through the narrow strips of the window in the door. It was the director of studies who was so often the bearer of bad news.
She ran down the corridor, trying to catch the air in her lungs. If she stopped now, she knew that it would catch her. What she didn’t know was that it was too late, it was waiting just behind the door she was desperately running towards.
The corridor is empty. Nothing but darkness and silence welcomed me as I carefully walked down the hall towards the looming black curtain. I swallow my fear as I stand before it. Behind this curtain is my future, my destiny, my husband. I take a deep breathe and push them to the side.
I was driving down the corridor when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him. It was the mailman that I had been seeing for the last week. He seemed to be following me everywhere. I was starting to get a little freaked out by this point as it had almost been an entire week that this was happening.
Your lips are still touching mine as we stumble into the hall. We’re kissing and giggling and bouncing off the walls like a pair of magnetic pinballs and for some reason we both find this ridiculously hilarious.
When we stumble through the bedroom door, we discard our clothes in the span of a few trip-steps toward the bed. Then, we lose our minds to the drag of nails across flesh and the resonance of our hearts beating in tandem.
We’ve been waiting all day for this. We went so far as to plan a date and actually go on it, believing somehow that it was required to justify the speed at which we’d fallen (in love) into bed together.
And it was definitely worth the wait …
Afterwards, when the room is quiet and still, I trace the scars across your chest with my fingertips and ask lazy questions —
“Did it hurt?”
“Don’t you miss your breasts?”
“Do you regret it?”
And you punctuate each answer with a gentle kiss and a smile. With my curiosity is sated, I hmmm softly and snuggle into your shoulder and listen to you breathe until it lulls me to sleep.
The late autumn sun slanted in through the windows, bathing the far wall a deep orange and elongating the shadows into long, inky limbs across the floor. In fact, the shadows lining the alcoves of the corridor were so dark that she almost didn’t notice him until he stepped out in front of her.
She knew that she should be irritated or surprised at the very least, looking up at his carefully impassive expression. But she could feel the anger practically radiating off him, and suddenly she found herself simply feeling nothing but unspeakably tired.
It would be a long night.
The corridor was pitch black and she couldn’t see even her own hands. The tangy smell tickled her nose.
There is a room, inside of my home. I see it as i pass the dining room and on my way to the kitchen. It smells like a basement, and is as dark as the night sky. Its a place i would never want to live. The corridor. The dark and mysterious life beyond the inside of the house.
I sttod at my corridor, watching nothing. As if I have emptyness all over me. What do I do now? I am tired of being alone. being lonely. I want to be with someone. But not just anubody. It must be somevody who loves and cares. Yes I want to astra
She walked down the corridor alone. Wondering if her life would always be this way,… alone. She was tired of walking alone.
The corridor opened up wide to show the expanse of grass outside the door. It was beautiful, the light shimmering and dancing off the blades of grass. I didn’t want to be anywhere else but where I was. Drugs can do that to you, but the door doesn’t open. So you also feel trapped and alone, but drugs make it better, the tunnel opens up for you and the possibilities are endless.
The man walked down the distorted corridor. His reality was shifting again. It hadn’t really been stable since he started experimenting with his software.
He opened the door and appeared in a halo of soft red light. I could smell him instantly, the heady mix of pure white soap and the musky scent of his skin, his neck. That magnificent neck. Without a word he reached out his hand so that he found my face at the end of his fingertips. He closed his eyes and drew my lips to his and we stood motionless in that way, joined by our breath, terrified of what we were feeling, for the longest time. As he led me down the corridor, painted the same burgeoning red of the inside of a grapefruit, I could feel myself falling, succumbing to inevitable heartbreak and all of the unimaginable pleasure that would come before it.
the wood groans against my weight and the sound makes me cringe. as if this corridor could get even scarier. i see my bedroom coming up in the candlelight and let out a sigh of relief. after staying up late exploring grandma’s old mansion i could use a good night’s sleep. it easy enough to slip through the door. being dead really makes travel easier
Grinning, I sprint down the hall, around the corridor, and smack! Right into a wall. Or what felt like one. As I fall to my certain doom, a hand shoots out and grabs me, helping me from falling. “I am so sorry! Thank-” I look up, “-you.” He’s gorgeous. I mean, drop-dead, scan-bam gorgeous. And I know him. “Thanks Nick! I am so-” He shakes his head laughing. “You’re fine, no harm done! Come on, I’ll walk with you to Chem.
As he walked along the street and turned along the corner, he decided to cross the street. Walking and seeing there would be no car at this hour, he had a slow tempo. Reaching the other side of the pavement he realized there was a newspaper laying on the ground. “Corridor” was the first word to strike his mind, knewing it was a sign, as he picked it up.
In the corridor the evil teacher laughed as I hid behind the locker door. She still hadn’t seen me in the few minutes that I had been across the hall from her. I trembled and tried to breathe softly.
an enclosed passageway; rooms usually open onto it
Silence.
That’s what the corridor was.
The walls were blank — just white. No sounds, no noise.
Silence.
That’s where I’d go to be in peace. To think and to just…listen. Because sometimes you need silence.
Down the narrowest corridor, there was a village built from gold. But all the people there were gold, too. Their hair dropped down in flaxen rings that barely caught the light of the outside world. As beautiful as they were, they were trapped among stone walls, their huts and hovels built from the shrapnel and crystals dropped from cavern ceilings and slopes. When asked why they remained here and not out in the open, they replied, “We were deemed too precious for the world.”