Comments Posted By Ghostwriter

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revved

All revved up and nowhere to go. Spinning wheels and clicking heels. Anticipating an epic shift of circumstances. Upward and onward. Directionless. Stuck in neutral.

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 02.25.2014 @ 6:20 am

demonstrate

Let me show you how it’s done. I didn’t really know, but they didn’t know that.
I took the butane lighter from Marco’s mittened hand. It was his father’s, engraved with Burn Baby Burn, a gift from an old girlfriend, before he met Marco’s mother. I put it to my mouth and sucked. Instantly I felt nauseated as the fumes filled my mouth and sinuses. Wait!, Theo said. Let me get my phone. I’ll take a picture. I coughed, snorted, inhaled…. and puked. Awesome!, yelled Marco. Take a picture! I was bent over wretching, and started to cough like when something goes down the wrong way. It was a fine demonstration of something less impressive than Kiss pyrotechnics.

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 02.16.2014 @ 1:21 pm

playground

Magical things go to die in the playground. I remember getting the concept of ‘pumping’ on the swings. Independence. Grown up. I also remember the two outstretched legs of Michael Smith driving into my stomach as I obliviously walked in front of them, slamming me to the ground. I remember the first time having the wind knocked out of me. I thought I was going to die.

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 02.15.2014 @ 2:43 pm

unkempt

The smartest man I’ve ever met was also the most unkempt. Humphrey was obviously ‘out there’. He was overweight, and he walked with a slow wobble. His hair was wild and formed a single massive dreadnought down his back. Humphrey was too smart for this world. He spoke of other worlds, and our other lives, spanning time and space. He would saunter by our house on his way to his. He would stop and look at our kids playing out front. Inevitably, he would focus on Chai. ‘That one’s a traveller,’ he’d say. ‘He’s come from far away.’ This terrified Chai. He was only 4.

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 02.04.2014 @ 7:03 am

televised

The nation was on standby . Nothing will be televised tonight. No news. No commercials. No sitcoms. No reality. Dream on. Go to sleep. Or dream your big dreams while you stare at the snow. Electronic snow. You’ll see something sooner or later.

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 02.01.2014 @ 10:52 am

generator

He looked at his Son. “Son, this world we live in … it’s just one big generator. The Sun, Son, provides the fuel, and the world produces …” He paused for effect: “Well, everything under the Sun, Son. Son?”
“Dad?”
The boy looked confused.
“What is it, Son?”
“A generator?”
“Good, you can go now, Son.”
The boy went off to play in the fading light.

» Posted By ghostwriter On 02.28.2012 @ 11:22 pm

When the power went down and the light in the cabin winked out, she was not immediately concerned. It would be the third time in as many weeks. She waited for the diesel generator to kick in and the heating to be restored.
But the faint report of gunshots changed the meaning of everything.
“Get up!” she said urgently. “Wake up!”
The man lying beneath the window murmured, rolled over and brought his hand up to wipe his face. His eyes remained shut.
She was already at his side, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him into consciousness. “F-ck off, don’t touch me!” he hissed.
The generator had not kicked in. It sat mute in its own small room adjacent to the cabin, and apart from the gunshots the world was blissfully quiet.
“Please, they’re coming!” Tears were forming at the base of her eyes. She touched his face pleadingly. “Please, you have to fix the generator now!”
With no warning he was on his feet and gone. Snowdrift blew in through the open door. She tensed her muscles against the cold wind and her right hand reached instinctively for the ring on her left, turning it around and around her finger.

» Posted By ghostwriter On 02.28.2012 @ 3:20 pm

crescent

‘What’s this?’ she said.
His face gave nothing away: ‘It’s a knife,’ was all he said.
Sunrays shone brightly through the kitchen windows and the crescent shaped knife received them at just the right angle to dazzle them both with its reflective brilliance.
She gripped its twin handles in tightly clenched fists. ‘It’s a mezzaluna,’ she said. And her mouth tightened around the word before she continued on. “It’s a –“ and here she broke off and peered down at the knife – “a Wusthof tempered stainless steel 25 centimetre mezzaluna,” she said, reading the inscription on the blade.
‘For cutting pizza slices,’ he said.
‘We buy our pizza home-delivered!’ She was shouting now. ‘IT COMES SLICED. THEY DO THAT FOR YOU!!!’
‘Maybe I want smaller pieces!’ he was shouting now too. ‘Anyway, I like the crescent-shaped design!! It reminds me of the moon. I LIKE THE MOON!’

» Posted By ghostwriter On 02.27.2012 @ 9:02 pm

‘What’s this?’ she said.
His face gave nothing away: ‘It’s a knife,’ was all he said.
Sunrays shone brightly through the kitchen windows and the crescent shaped knife received them at just the right angle to dazzle them both with its reflective brilliance.
She gripped its twin handles in tightly clenched fists. ‘It’s a mezzaluna,’ she said. And her mouth tightened around the word before she continued on. “It’s a –“ and here she broke off, peered down at the knife, and read – “a Wusthof tempered stainless steel 25 centimetre mezzaluna,” she said, reading the inscription on the blade.
‘For cutting pizza slices,’ he said.
‘We buy our pizza home-delivered!’ She was shouting now. ‘IT COMES SLICED. THEY DO THAT FOR YOU!!!’
‘Maybe I want smaller pieces!’ he was shouting now too. ‘Anyway, I like the crescent-shaped design!!’ he said. ‘It reminds me of the moon. I LIKE THE MOON!’

» Posted By ghostwriter On 02.27.2012 @ 8:23 pm

pawn

I wasn’t just a pawn in her games, I was the reason the game was played, the catalyst…

» Posted By Ghostwriter On 07.04.2010 @ 5:07 am

collision

crash, pain, broken, tears, death.

» Posted By ghostwriter On 10.18.2009 @ 12:17 pm

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