Comments Posted By brett

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They are in the desert, the mountains, and at the beach. They’ve lit plastic signs that beckon brightly to all who flow past on the river of highway. They offer shelter and a place to sleep to millions nightly. Life takes place there, gritty and sweet.

» Posted By Brett On 11.08.2018 @ 4:33 am


I misunderstood the purpose of this exercise at first. I spent too much time thinking, and did not start writing until the time was half over.

» Posted By Brett On 05.21.2017 @ 12:40 pm


Stacy’s piano teacher was a mouth breather. Stacy sat at her place at the piano, playing her scales and her etudes, but what sense of music could there ever be with that mouth-breathing bread loaf of a human being sitting behind her ruining the whole fucking process.

» Posted By Brett On 06.17.2015 @ 1:26 am


Three little beans liked to eat cheese. They loved cheese so much that they made cheese go away. They died of starvation. Everyone cheered!!!!!! “Hooray! The beans are dead!” The beans no longer lived and became extinct. The townsfolk made more cheese and they ate it with no fear of the beans. The end.

» Posted By Brett On 05.20.2015 @ 6:34 am


Cornered, it means you’re trapped, likely in some variety of trouble and most likely alone. You don’t usually have many ways out of a corner, except perhaps if you can climb since it’s usually two walls that make a corner. Alternatively you could knock one down.

» Posted By Brett On 06.17.2014 @ 8:51 am


eastern washington university
reminds me of home and all that came with it.
dust, ruins, tranquility and beauty
the spectrum is large and quite frankly this isn’t even about
eastern washington university

» Posted By brett On 11.05.2013 @ 8:25 am


you think its so simple at first.
you think you can handle it all.
I suppose we are fearless without knowledge.
we can do anything, we can be anything
and then they put you in an incubator because you’re not ready for the world yet.

» Posted By brett On 10.31.2013 @ 8:33 pm


I want to watch
I want to feel
I want to hear
I go to the cinema
I want to escape
I want to experience a new generation
I want to fly
I want to be a superhero
I want to swim under water
I go to the cinema

» Posted By brett On 10.30.2013 @ 11:50 am


Suicidal was her name
she always felt so close to the end.

» Posted By brett On 10.27.2013 @ 11:19 pm


I was born with them.
They haven’t left me.
I suppose I can always count on them.
Sometimes they’re called genes.
often times we don’t like the style or color of our jeans.
but they are the only genes we can’t take off.

» Posted By brett On 10.24.2013 @ 5:46 pm


I went to the market, they said they had fleas.
They didnt.
I went to the dog park they had fleas.
They shouldn’t.
I was tired of my life I wanted to flea.
I couldn’t.
So I guess I’ll learn to just be.
I am.

» Posted By brett On 10.23.2013 @ 10:06 am


wine orchard, on a sunny day. we wine tasted until we got tipsy. the colors of the orchard were so vivid against a blue sky. it was a great day to be alive.

» Posted By brett On 04.05.2013 @ 10:51 am


I woke up to a crumbling building. everything around me had already apart and all that was left was for me to do the same. Bricks had scattered the ground. and beneath all that rubble i could see my mother laying still.

» Posted By Brett On 03.22.2013 @ 1:17 pm


As i looked up into the sky i could finally see light. The heavy clouds had finally passed over and thats when i saw them. There were birds from all directions.

» Posted By brett On 03.22.2013 @ 12:34 pm


There was an object in her purse when she struck me i knew she was not a sweet old lady she was a mean grouchy grandma who had no heart.
As i lay on the ground holding my head she stood over me with her purse ready to whip me again and again.

» Posted By brett On 12.03.2012 @ 9:07 am


Better late, than never?
I hate o be late. Anxiety big time .

» Posted By Brett On 11.22.2012 @ 7:40 pm


somebody can tell you everything about them;
they can be brave
or scared
or alone
or maybe none of these things
at all.

» Posted By Brett On 11.12.2012 @ 8:04 pm


The word guard means to protect or help something. For example, “I will guard this bridge to prevent the enemy from crossing.”. Guard is an English word and variants can be found in various European languages.

» Posted By Brett On 11.02.2012 @ 7:12 pm


despite being legless, I still enjoy limbo.

» Posted By brett On 09.18.2012 @ 5:29 pm

Despite his every attempt to reconcile his work-life and his love life, Bill failed. Miserably. Lucille left him after a weekend long business deal in Minnesota. After she left, Bill got a call, “It didn’t go too well.”

» Posted By Brett On 09.18.2012 @ 12:06 pm


the knife entered the skin, slicing muscle to skin drawing blood as it moves its way down the leg. The blood covered knife then pulls out of the lifeless body

» Posted By brett On 08.07.2012 @ 2:17 am


John sat upright in bed, gasping for air, heart beating erratically in his chest. He hadn’t had a nightmare like this in ages, his traumatic night terrors vanishing after taking up adventuring with his flat mate. He really should have expected it, then, when they came back when his flat mate left him. But, well. He’d hoped. He really ought to stop doing that.

» Posted By Brett On 05.05.2012 @ 6:24 am


Sherlock quickly accepted that he was very much alone in his life. It was okay. He was just Sherlock, loner, consulting detective, genius, and he was very good at being that all by himself.

Then, along came John Watson. Suddenly, Sherlock wasn’t just Sherlock anymore, he was part of something else. He was half of a whole, half of SherlockandJohn, fitting together like puzzle pieces, stitched together like the perfect patchwork. For better or for worse.

Well. For worse.

The Fall was what did it. The separation. Sherlock never realized just how much he needed this, this SherlockandJohn, this partnership, until he was forced to tear away from it. Rip them apart, fake his own death, separate himself from John and become Just Sherlock again. Except, he couldn’t go back to being Just Sherlock. Once John had been attached to him he could never go back, a piece of him missing and left behind in 221B. Not Just Sherlock, but Sherlockand[empty]. Stitches torn open, missing the seam. Separate. Alone.

It would have to end soon, Sherlock thought. He couldn’t do it alone anymore.

» Posted By Brett On 05.02.2012 @ 1:04 pm


John didn’t know why he couldn’t get rid of it. It was a little creepy, carrying a skull around. But there was something sacred about it, hallowed, and John couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. Sentiment, he thought.

Sherlock would have laughed.

» Posted By Brett On 04.30.2012 @ 2:11 pm


Lestrade ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. He didn’t want to believe that Sherlock could have been the one who did it, but there was some conclusive evidence and the only alibi the detective seemed to have was backed only on his own word and the word of his roommate, John Watson. As much respect for John as he had, he knew that the doctor would vouch for Sherlock no matter what. Even if Sherlock was guilty. Even if Sherlock was a murderer. Love blinds a person.

» Posted By Brett On 04.29.2012 @ 3:00 pm


When he sees the paper on the wall outside the hotel he immediately rips it off, clutching it in his hands until it crinkles in his grasp. This can’t be real. Is this a trick? He can feel his heart pounding insufferably in his chest, tears stinging the back of his eyes even though he hasn’t cried since he was four years old and someone called him a freak for the first time out of many. He reads the words, just five words, five words, but they make the difference to him, because the last two are his name and it gives him more hope than he’s had in a long time.


» Posted By Brett On 04.26.2012 @ 3:28 pm


Sebastian Moran was his warrior, his muscle man, his gladiator. If Jim needed somebody killed, Sebastian was the man for the job. If someone was being stingy with their evidence, well, Sebastian would get it out of them, quick and easy. And if Jim was in the mood for a particularly violent orgasm, well, Seb was down with that, too.

» Posted By Brett On 04.25.2012 @ 5:41 pm


It was that look in his eyes again, peering over the top of his newspaper. Daddy always read the paper, even though he always muttered about how much boring rubbish there was in it. There was nothing but scorn in his eyes, but Sherlock couldn’t honestly say why that was. He hadn’t been doing anything wrong, had he? He looked up at Mycroft, eyes wide, hopeful, only to see the same expression reflected there.

Alone again then. Sherlock ducked his head and waited for The Talk, wondering if he could get away with slipping into his mind palace if he nodded periodically.

» Posted By Brett On 04.23.2012 @ 5:06 pm


Sherlock scowled down at the food on his plate, clear displeasure etched into his every feature. John laughed. “It’s escargot, ‘Lock.”

“It’s… snails,” Sherlock said, slowly. He pushed the plate away. “I won’t eat this. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Don’t be a child, you had a steak just yesterday.”

“I am now.” Sherlock peered up at John with disgust. “We’re never going to France again, John.”

John chuckled. “I thought it was nice. Romantic.”

“Never. Again.”

» Posted By Brett On 04.22.2012 @ 11:49 am


I took the first bite with trepidation but the festival in my mouth convinced me to give up on the diet.

» Posted By brett On 02.11.2012 @ 4:19 pm

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