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Podseca me kao kad skrenes sa pruge, tj. nekog puta kojim si isao.. i ne znas kako ce to da ispadne,, hoces li da se izgubis i nadjes nesto bolje ili ces da se sjebes totalno.. ko zna, takav je zivot, ne znas sta te ceka iza krivine, i iza svakog novog dana..
By Jelena on 11.13.2015
We had a plan.
Or maybe we were just kidding ourselves. We thought we had a plan.
Before moving out here to the middle of Nowhere, Maine, we knew that the outlook was bleak, but we – and everyone around us – acted like this ‘adventure’ would turn out to be the best days of our lives.
I knew as soon as our newly-purchased used truck crossed the townlines of our final destination, two hours from the nearest ‘city,’ that we had derailed.
By Olive Kay URL on 11.13.2015
The relationship should never have started. It was doomed from the beginning, her having come from a father who treated her like a house servant and a lover, him having come from parents who knew he was there, but only when he let them know, repeatedly, loudly and angrily. No one could have been with either one of them, but you know how these things go. Everyone is supposed to have someone in the world who is perfect for them, according to the pop culture of the day, and so each one of them ventured out to see if this ridiculous bit of nonsense could possibly be true. It was not. So, if it is possible to have a relationship that began as derailed this is was it.
By nyla on 11.13.2015
He screamed as he felt the curved end of the blade slice against his side. Automatically, he clenched at his searing side, the pain radiating from his side and to what seemed everywhere. Grinning, the Goliath swung the blade again, approaching him. It had a sinister walk, and the ground underneath him rumbled and shook at each step.
“Aw, look at our hero: in pain and derailed from his truth path. Tell me, how does it feel to be helpless?” It sneered.
By Chan on 11.13.2015
It was only natural the high speed rail, which never came to the state, plans derailed sometime ago in the form of multi-million dollar studies to the tune of endless nepotism of one sort or another and yielded not a whole hell lot, obviously, shouldn’t be too affected by all the earthquakes the place experienced regularly now. How can this alternative transport be damaged if it doesn’t exist, right? Also consider these “new” earthquakes are clocking in at 585 for 2014. Wouldn’t you want to live in this place? I wonder how geological events are shaped by the poor choices of one civilization or another when it comes to this atmosphere all total. The paranoia and the stupidity, combined, seems a bit daunting, does it not? Seems the truth too directly casts the wonder of it all aside.
By Intuition URL on 11.13.2015
Delirium is what blows my mind. I can’t remember the days before. Black. Some grey. Have to vistit the places I’ve been yesterday. What time is it?
By Andi on 11.13.2015
don’t let the tracks take you, i’m
telling you, i’m begging you, please
don’t leave, i
don’t have much else.
the whistle used to cut through my sleep and
these days all i can think about is
the iron and the heat, the
rocks spit up into the air–
almeno, be honest and
tell yourself the truth, please, i
just don’t want you to go.
By j URL on 11.13.2015
It was just a penny – no way this would actually work. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up from the chilled air; I was just beginning to see my breath. I took the coin from my brother out of my pocket, took a deep breath, and set it down on the track. I squatted down and waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, after what must’ve been over an hour, I walked to the back of the gas station, leaned against the Oak tree behind me, pulled my arms in close to stay warm, and closed my eyes.
I awoke with a jolt and saw sparks. My head filled with a terrible screeching, that I thought would never end. I slammed my hands against my ears and hunched over, sure this sound would personify and take me whole. After minutes of crouching down, I uncurled my body, and sitting on my knees slowly looked up. I couldn’t believe what I saw, and a pang of guilt, like a sharp knife, split through my abdomen.
The penny had worked.
By abbyberke on 11.13.2015
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.