I could sense he wanted to say something by the way he was looking at me, eyes wide open. But I waited patiently, brushing his hair with my fingers, until he gathered his strength. “Why… Lift?” I smiled with melancholy when memories started flowing through. There were so many of them, still fresh like it had happened yesterday… “Well, where should I start? You know most of the story, I could just jump to the conclusion-” “No. I know all of it, but I want to hear everything from you… Please.” He smiled, the same smile with perfect white teeth that intimidated me at the beginning, when I had no idea what role he was about to play in my story. I sighed.
The following is a 1000 words story written for a contest (1000 Word Challenge) last month. The theme was “29”, which was definitely a challenge since any topic could fit under it, but after a couple drafts I managed to finish a version I really liked. It also looks like the jury was impressed as well with my originality: they decided to mention my name although I haven’t won anything – which was good enough for me. :) Enjoy reading! (more…)
Hey, how do you feel today?
Well, what do you think? We both know we’re not going anywhere with this…
I know you have the impression that you love him. But really, do you?… How can you be sure?
I just feel it… Really hard. I can’t even explain it to someone else… It’s like – a short break, no longer than a heartbeat – I melt when I see him, when he looks at me. (more…)
I know it’s been a while since my last post. Or posts. But I though that now with 2016 here, it can’t be that hard to write something about last year, about me, about what I hope this year will be like, plus, of course, the whole cliché called Resolutions and anything else.
She looks at people, trying to imitate them. But they wear shorts while she has gloves.
In April back home there’s a tulip festival, and colours, warm colours, just like the weather. And happiness. Here, she takes photos of tall buildings, grey sky and crowded underground stations. Everything is grey, the weather, even the people dress in pale colours. But that’s fine, she can get used to that, right?
He looked around, preparing himself. The room was as silent as always, even more silent now that the large windows had been closed. You could no longer hear the cars and the buzzing of the traffic lights. The calm before the storm. Now the only intruder to break the silence was the massive, wooden clock that sat behind them, ticking away. He closed his eyes, listening to seconds pass, matching his own heart rhythm: boom, boom, boom… Only a couple more seconds before the thunder of her voice resonated in his ears.
‘How can you do that to me?!’
I decided to buy a horseradish and a bunch of violets to give my day some taste and colour. The funny thing about both the horseradish and violets is that they aren’t easy to define. You could think about the colour violet that’s actually a mixture of red and blue, two states of a soul that are contrary in such a way that the final result can’t be explained in an easy way. It’s almost dangerous to mix the passion of red with the sadness of blue, it creates an explosion which is just as strong as the perfume of these violets. As strong as the horseradish taste, which is too strange to be defined: is it bitter?… is it sweet?… It’s violet. Just like life.
I’ve recently finished a book called The Versions of Us, a title which sounded interesting enough to make me read the back cover, then buy it. There were three intercalated stories which actually related the same story, but, well, different versions of it. This article though is not going to be a book review – the book is just a background, a pretext to write, a mere inspiration for giving my thoughts some depth and direction.
A similar idea was written in some of my previous articles. (more…)
I wanted to write about crushes. Then lots of stuff happened recently and I kept postponing it, so right now I don’t feel like writing about crushes. Not today.
I’d rather listen to the rain while laying in my bed, and watching the wallpaper on my phone crying with raindrops. It makes me sad in a way, but I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t cry again too soon. I remember my first article from more than a year ago, where I talked about rain… That article was the start of me explaining to myself how crushed I felt, when a mutual crush ended after a while. That’s the thing with crushes, they crush you in a way. And if they don’t, you either fall in love or fall out of love, but you’re still getting crushed sooner or later. Can you have a crush on someone who has crushed you already? Probably not. It would be insane, I guess. (more…)
The inspiration for this article comes from three different comments I got from three different persons. They were the types of comments that stay hidden into your mind for a long, long time, and you think about them from time to time, but you never truly forget them. They’re just there, and you can’t even explain why you keep bothering about them, why can’t you store some other kind of information into your brain, rather than random remarks… except they’re not that random. (more…)
She always could barely wait for the first day of each month, as it was the day when donations came in. When she could finally catch a glimpse of what the normal people were wearing or using – not that she wasn’t normal, of course, but it was hard for a girl that lived in an orphanage to own all those amazing items in any other way. This time, she was hoping for a purse – and yes, there it was, right at the bottom of the sack. A brown purse with many pockets, including a little zipped one, so little you could perhaps think it was fake… (more…)
Remember one of my previous posts about music, the one describing how awful you may feel just from listening the wrong song at the wrong time? Well, something happened the other day, something similar but completely different.
It was a normal day, which means unusual just for being normal; not a happy day, not an unhappy day, just a regular day. But for some reason I had to go walk into town, lost amongst my thoughts, lost amongst the crowd, when suddenly something caught my attention. And there weren’t my eyes whose attention was caught, but my ears: someone was standing near a wall, singing in a microphone while playing the guitar. (more…)