Comments Posted By Cinnia

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There was a catch to it all, she realized. Although it seemed easy at first, a little thought here and there, a little work there and then, it was much more than that. She fought it, day in and day out, hoping to cut it down bit by bit.

» Posted By Cinnia On 12.19.2016 @ 4:42 pm


There’s no legend like that of the Crow, the Ghost of Flight, the Night Guardian. I met her once and I will never forget the way her eyes seemed to glow with the heat of patriotism.

» Posted By Cinnia On 06.18.2016 @ 2:52 pm


“Who saw him?” she asked, hesitating to stand and greet her visitor.
“No one, miss,” said Miles, one of her personal guard. “‘Least, not until he climbed over the wall. He never went through the gates.”

» Posted By Cinnia On 06.28.2015 @ 1:05 pm


She knew him by his name. Octavian. Unusual, august, severe. But he never acted like that. Not around her, at least. She never new him, the real him, until she saw him crumple, that fateful day in the parking garage…

» Posted By Cinnia On 06.16.2015 @ 6:35 pm


The sound in her ears raged, curling and pounding against her ear-drums like war percussion and thunder. She shrank back, covering her ears to block out the noise the best that she could, but it persisted, carrying on.

» Posted By Cinnia On 05.31.2015 @ 2:12 pm


I saw the skies: clear and blue, the same as on the day we met. And I saw myself then, finding you in your own little corner of the world, both of us unable to shut out what we feared the most.

» Posted By Cinnia On 10.19.2011 @ 9:01 am


They told me not to listen, and I didn’t. Maybe that was for the best, because she heard everything. I don’t know anything, so I’m safe. For now, I guess. But a small part of me still wants to have heard it all, to have that knowledge, even if it means becoming hunted.

» Posted By Cinnia On 10.05.2011 @ 2:04 pm


Black and white. That’s what I was brought up to see. My own little brand of rose-tinted glasses. One day I left the glasses off, and was shocked to see that everything was only in varied shades of gray.

» Posted By Cinnia On 10.04.2011 @ 5:34 pm


Suppose you saw me standing on a corner somewhere. What would you think of me? Would you think me young, for my fashion and hair? Odd for my mismatched jewelry and balanced precariously in my arms? Or would you think me simply different?

» Posted By Cinnia On 10.03.2011 @ 1:48 pm


None of the coworkers could have predicted what the executive said next.

“File it.”

» Posted By Cinnia On 03.30.2011 @ 9:41 am


I don’t know. I’m just somewhere between scared and angry and I don’t know which. If things are getting better, then why are there all of these blotches in my life, staining me?

» Posted By Cinnia On 01.11.2011 @ 6:27 pm


The dusty road wound through the mountains like a golden snake, twisting through the narrow passes and precarious cliffs.

» Posted By Cinnia On 01.01.2011 @ 3:46 pm


Words withheld from lips that speak
Sounds that ears must hear
Sights unseen by eyes that watch
Forms that flit past hands of fear

» Posted By Cinnia On 05.10.2010 @ 3:47 pm


He carefully folded his clothing while silently listening to her. It didn’t really matter that he listened – he would forget what she said soon anyway. However, he always liked to give people the benefit of doubt. It made him seem more trustworthy.
Not reliable – trustworthy.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.30.2009 @ 5:46 pm


As I gazed at the pink transparent curtains covering my window, my mind wandered. I found myself unable to concentrate on anything, even on my new books. Where were they?

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.29.2009 @ 11:11 am


“Don’t you dare,” Anna told Kate as the two readied the cellos for the concert.
“Why not?”
“It wouldn’t be proper.” Kate pouted. Then they both heard the violinists tuning up in the band room. Anna’s friend darted forward and ran down a hallway, calling behind her, “Who cares?”

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.28.2009 @ 1:03 pm


“This pumpkin looks okay,” said Len as he pointed out a rather symmetrical squash to my left.
“It looks too perfect,” I replied briskly, walking right past it. “Imperfect ones with flaws are better. They create better imagery for carving.”

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.26.2009 @ 9:49 pm


He looked down at the set of cards. Weren’t they still earlier? Now they were dizzying red and white swirls that kept swaying. Man, he needed to stop drinking.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.15.2009 @ 7:08 pm


Her voice was sugary-sweet enough to give a dentist cavities. When she smiled, it was with her mouth, not her eyes. She seemed to be innocent, but she wasn’t.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.14.2009 @ 8:49 pm


She loved the way the lights shined on the stage to give actors their heavenly glow. She loved the magic of their voices and actions transforming fiction to reality. But most of all, she loved the way she was able to disguise herself from what she really was.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.13.2009 @ 8:23 pm


I took the virtual version of the frog dissection instead of the literal one. My love of animals and of my stomach couldn’t bend far enough for me to face the reality of thousands of frogs dying every year, anyway.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.12.2009 @ 8:26 pm


Jeremy watches as the dog chases after the ice-cream truck. It’s a balmy afternoon in Palm Springs, and he doesn’t want to waste the feeling of peace. He sprawls over the lawn chair, relaxed.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.11.2009 @ 6:27 pm


I heard the rider down the road from a mile away. That’s when I knew that I had been tricked. She had found out, somehow. This runaway plot was not going as planned. Suddenly, I felt like murdering my author.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.10.2009 @ 5:49 pm


Lucy adjusted her headband as she stood up to speak. Slowly, she walked to the front of the room, her heartbeat thudding with every step. This had to be the worst moment of her life. It had to be.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.09.2009 @ 3:56 pm


I smelled the sweet smoke as soon as I walked into the dim room. It was sandalwood and rose. ‘Briar’, I thought. A soft whisper came from the shadows.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.08.2009 @ 8:37 pm


I watched the rain pour down silently from the sky into endless puddles. Slowly, I walked through the downpour. Although I was soaked to the skin by the time I arrived home, it was worth it to see the look on my brother’s face.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.07.2009 @ 8:42 pm


I thought about what he had said as I rolled out the dough for cinnamon rolls. What did he mean by that? Was I really just kidding myself? I stared at the pastry dough as if it held the meaning of life.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.06.2009 @ 6:22 pm


We saw him jump around like frog in a pond. He always had a smile on his face and wide, baby-blue eyes. We decided to call him Froggy, since he gave us no other name.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.05.2009 @ 4:35 pm


I saw it all happen. Believe me, I did, youngling. One moment, the new knight had his shield and was joyful; the next moment was complete and utter chaos.

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.04.2009 @ 11:06 am


I don’t see you, but you know all about me. You know my birthday, my age, my hair color. You are a stranger, but could seem like my friend. How do you know my identity?

» Posted By Cinnia On 11.03.2009 @ 6:24 pm

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