Comments Posted By Greenleaf
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The mirror is the same as he remembers. The cold iron frame, the crack running down the middle, and the rust spots dotting the surface are all there. It reflects him, the room, and the door behind him. Everything seems normal, unless you understand that the door does not exist. And this door that shouldn’t exist is slowly opening.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 12.13.2015 @ 4:11 pm
The commission had been going so well. Vincent glanced at the scalpel in his hand, still dripping from his latest work. For over a year he had been carving her to be his masterpiece; a David of muscle and bone. But now, with a tremble of the sleep-deprived hand, he had sliced his earnings away. He glanced down at the slit in Maria’s stomach. The pockets of fat that he had been tasked to remove glistened around the incision like a diseased halo. Vincent bent forwards, pressing his lips on the wound, drawing succor from it. No there was no going back from here. But he could ascend his work, make the cuts he had only seen in his nightmares.. And, after the tubes and gauze had been pulled away, she would be reborn.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 05.21.2015 @ 8:53 pm
He flipped his sheets off, and gazed at the fat serpent that coiled itself around his body. Its tumorous mass was a crutch, a compromise to keep his body from failing: his bones from cracking. It had been woven around his body after the accident, a whitened umbilical cord. And like all umbilical cords it could only nourish for so long. It needed to be cut.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 05.10.2015 @ 8:10 pm
Joe and Cole were brothers, and they did everything together. They had the same hobbies, worked the same job, and married the same types of people. Then Joe drank a little too much at a friend’s house in the next town over. He would have stayed of course, but his brother had needed him. “An emergency”, he said. So Joe drove back home at 1:00 A.M., ignoring the snowstorm that raged around him.
A week later the search party found his car on the bottom of Salt River. It was still perfectly intact under the ice, unlike Joe. He had separated from his brother, in a rather permanent way. Joe and Cole were never the same after that.
While Cole teared up delivering a eulogy, Joe laid in his coffin.
While Cole put flowers on his brother’s grave, Joe laid in his coffin.
While Cole consoled Joe’s wife, Joe laid in his coffin.
Then, after a week of mourning, Joe decided that he had diverged enough.
He sat up.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.28.2015 @ 12:51 pm
The woman in red was tired. The walk back to the car had taken most of her energy, and she had been forced to stop several times; her twisted ankle making her hiss in pain.
She didn’t know if she could drive to the next light tonight, let alone across the country. Her hands gripped the steering wheel to stop from shaking, slipping slightly on the leather. She looked in the mirror, irritably flicking away something stuck in her hair. Dandruff, dirt, brain matter: it didn’t really matter, not anymore.
She had made her choice as soon as she saw that Colt .45 in it’s case, jet black and pure sex, a siren’s call of power and destruction. Everything else was just epilogue; the bullet to Jessie’s head the final period.
The woman in red turned the key in it’s ignition and the truck roared to life. As Smokey used to say: she had a long way to go, and a short time to get there.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.22.2015 @ 7:16 pm
One foot in front of the other.
Do not look down.
Do not look back.
Do not dip your feet in the footprints of others
Because you will sink into their memories
etched onto pavement and dirt
and you will fade.
Just close your eyes
clack your heels
into a lover’s heat
or your child’s smile
or a glossy red Chevrolet.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.18.2015 @ 9:20 pm
The last thing the man remembered was that it wasn’t painful to be hooked up to the machine. He was expecting the hooks and plugs to hurt as they sunk into his flesh, but he only felt a faint numbing sensation. He glanced up at it. The machine was large and made of brass, and its gears clacked and hummed as it roared to life. Upon the white wall across from the machine appeared the face of a young woman. The man stared at her, at her black hair and sapphire eyes. A tear trickled down his cheek, but for what reason he couldn’t even remember.
This was the 213th time the engineers had ran the machine. They had gotten quite efficient with their work.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.17.2015 @ 11:39 am
She was his charge. He hated it sometimes, like when she threw things at him. They didn’t damage his scales, but the noise as they shattered and splintered scared him. When there was nothing left to throw, she would taunt him, calling him “Monster”.
These words damaged him less than the plates and chairs.
(they were just air).
But somehow they were what kept him from sleep, from the Great Dream, and he despised her for it.
But then when she was sleeping, he would open her door at the top of the tower. He would crawl to the side of her bed, making no noise as to not wake her. And as he looked upon her, her hair silvered in the moonlight, he realized his duty wasn’t so bad. Just lonely.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.16.2015 @ 2:28 pm
The clothing store had begun to molder. The hardware depot had browned with rust. It was quiet in this place, a silence only interrupted by the moan of timber or the whisper of wind. But no sounds came from living things, and at night the shadows danced upon the walls and spoke secrets to absent ears.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.15.2015 @ 6:41 pm
It had started with Jack’s Jacuzzi. They always warned you about the amoebas that lived in the lakes, the ones that ate away at your brains until you couldn’t think straight. They didn’t tell us about the danger from the private side. America’s pools and water parks. Her Jacuzzis. Jack, the poor kid, didn’t know what hit him. But everyone else did at the Christmas party, when they found Jack hunched over his wife in the master suite.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.12.2015 @ 7:45 pm
The man stumbled into the alley, the tightness of his jeans pinching him, keeping him conscious. He shouldn’t have taken that bet, shouldn’t have taken those drinks. One thing leads to another and all of a sudden you have a knife sticking out of you, and you are counting your life in drops of blood instead of years. He stumbled again, his foot slipping on the pool of blood blooming under him. In spite of the pain, he smirked. Some men just can’t hold their alcohol.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.12.2015 @ 3:47 pm
“HERE I AM.”
“ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE.”
The radio blared in the back of the gas station.
The manager grunted in disgust and stabbed the power button.
He had had enough rock for one night. Enough that his face wouldn’t stop burning.
It sure as fuck would leave him rolling until the early hours.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.09.2015 @ 9:11 pm
The gardener tended the white flowers.
He tended the brown dirt below the white flowers.
He tended the black coffins below the brown dirt.
But he did not tend what was in the coffins.
That was his wife’s job, and she did it well.
» Posted By Greenleaf On 04.08.2015 @ 10:59 pm
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Convertible very good.
*All asian accent-like*
» Posted By Greenleaf On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am