• JNF commented on the post, integrity 8 years, 6 months ago

    This is the word that makes me stare blankly at the page. What does it mean, and where does it come from. Is it possible to change your mind, is it possible to change. Strength. Conviction. Certitude. All seem so hard to come by.

  • JNF commented on the post, wander 8 years, 7 months ago

    She wandered in and out of the empty rooms, abandoned and dilapidated, imagining the decadent lives of those who had once inhabited them.

  • JNF commented on the post, barber 8 years, 7 months ago

    Slowly, painstakingly, the barber dragged his sharpened razor over the man’s chiseled jaw. “Tell me again,” he said, deliberately, “tell me again what it is that you do.” The man’s facial muscles clenched and he cleared his throat, twice. “I’m a soldier,” he answered, nervous, though he didn’t know why. The barber took his time […]

  • JNF commented on the post, bench 8 years, 7 months ago

    He sat on the park bench, quiet, reflective. The spring breeze stirred up the antique smell of his worn leather jacket and toyed with the thin wisps of white hair around his face. He sighed, heavily, watching children dart and prance in the new grass, chasing ducks and plucking dandelions. His glasses slid down his […]

  • JNF commented on the post, revolt 8 years, 8 months ago

    Upon entering the house, she had to cover her nose with her forearm to avoid gagging from the revolting smell. She stepped cautiously over the creaking floorboards, taking in the room around her with growing horror.

  • JNF commented on the post, coward 8 years, 8 months ago

    You’re a coward,she said, quietly, gravely. Calm, even.
    I know, he replied. His head was lowered in humility.

  • JNF commented on the post, alarm 8 years, 8 months ago

    Don’t be alarmed, he said, it’s nothing.
    A long pause.
    She covered his hand with hers. He stiffened, then pulled away.
    Please talk to me, she said.

  • JNF commented on the post, darkroom 8 years, 8 months ago

    Darkroom. We meet again. My hands grasp your hips, waist, ribcage, furtive, quiet. My elbow knocks something glass from the shelf to the ground. I lift you up onto the bench. Lunch.

  • JNF commented on the post, darkroom 8 years, 8 months ago

    He hovered over the images in the darkroom, scrutinizing each one intently, restlessly searching for the perfect detail. He could see nothing but the translucent stares of strangers, illuminated by the faintest of infrared glows, and the outline of his own rough fingers as he sifted through the frames.