Fifty Odd Words No. 50

Two men used the alley as a shelter from the sun.
"You'd think with all this shade, the city would be cooler." The first said.
Their bodies hung low in the muted light: drab without colour.
The second thumped his foot against the dumpster. "Instead the tarmac soaks it right up. "

I would like to thank my cat...

Dave Wills, known as 'Loose Cannon' to some, has nominated me for a blogger award. Thanks.



As per the rules (sort of), here are some blogs I nominate for this award, some are faithful readers, some sublime writers. Good bloggers all.

Clark Blue. He hasn't been posting all that often, but when he does... This is someone who can use language.

This Is Not An Exit. My favourite commenter, and an honest blogger.

Trouble, Thinks. A self proclaimed artist, musician, photographer, poet, saint at heart, sinner in practice (from her profile). Says everything.

wagner israel cilio iii I'm not sure how to describe this blog. Read it. That's all I'll say.

Pieces of You I think the layout of this blog is great (and the content, never forget the content).

A few creative facts about myself.
- I'm originally a creator of equations. (I studied Astronomy, Space Science and Astrophysics)
- I believe in the novella.
- I draw.
- India ink on paper, is there anything better?
- My dreams often fail me.
- I prefer few words.
- Creation is the result of destruction.

Fifty Odd Words No. 49

Half of my muscles are ready to snap, so I sit, huddled, inside of myself.
A woman further up peers over. I smile, try to appear friendly. She thinks I'm nervous.
She turns away, then her eyes flick back.
The man across from me shouts to the driver: "You gotta turn right here."

Fifty Odd Words No. 48

I had this dream. It was dark and I was pushing through a corn field, you know? The sort where the ears come right up to your chest and it’s like you’re wading through water. The moon lit up the leaves like ghosts.

And where did you go?

Nowhere, I was lost.

Fifty Odd Words No. 47

She felt, in a way, like she had been abandoned.
Left to sour.
Her arm ached from his weight and her back urged to buckle. His face though: round, peaceful (perfect), slept an unending sleep.
So she waited on, wrapping the mac tighter about them as the rain pummelled on.

Fifty Odd Words No. 46

He fell out of himself, collapsing through memories and landing face down in his worst thoughts.

He traced a bloody path through the house of things left and turned right, but felt wrong.

The waterfall he had created ran red from the top, warping what he had forsaken.

Fifty Odd Words No. 45

It is a tune playing, endlessly, in my head against which I struggle to progress in the day-to-day.

It drowns out all common noise, that situational stuff kept locked up in one's subconscious.

I used to fight, but am now a disinterested shell, trapped up in this wondrous melody I can never identify.