It was hard for her when, in all their fashionably bohemian passions, they spoke of love, for she, too, had much to say on the matter. But how could she have told them that she was in love with words?
These words are mine.
You can have those ones over there.
It’s utterly amazing how powerful just a few words can be; how they can stir crowds, wound or heal wounds, bring people to action, bring people to their knees, keep someone awake at night or allow someone to sleep, change people’s lives, and cause people to literally change the course of their own lives.
By speaking only a few words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal” – “…that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom , and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” – “…the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” – “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country” – “I have a dream!” – “Yes, we can!” – leaders have changed nations; however, the most powerful phrase in the world – not only in the English language, but in every languge, is still, and always will be – “I love you” – because those three words can change a soul.
Four little words, locked tightly in her heart all these years, in part because of her stoic upbringing where a show of emotions was embarrassing to her parents, and another part due to her shy nature, suddenly escaped her lips with a fierce gentleness and a welling of relief.
“I love you dad,” now emerged from her heart and her mouth accompanied by the sad realization that these words that she longed to say all her life, would fall on deaf ears, for the dead don’t hear.
The cacophony created by the amateur guitarist’s amplifier reached the ears of Flufn’Stuff – who was daydreaming on the balcony of the third-story building next door – and threatened to throw her into a misanthropic rage. Having witnessed Flufn’Stuff’s last rage Kaylee, her minion, took matters into her own hands and saved the neighbor’s life by covertly micturating on the outdoor fuse box, shutting off their power.
Her lips said “Hi”. Her eyes said “Goodbye”.
There’s is nothing more beautiful than the words that escape a person’s mouth when they are in a state of love. Destroy that love, and their mouths will be silenced for eternity.
The judge read out the sentence. It was four words long.
A writer is like the farmer who grazes his words and prepares them for market.
An editor is like the butcher who hacks the stories up into savory morsels for the reader’s consumption.
I am “The Chameleon”; no I’m not some superhero who can change the colour of their skin to suit the environment nor am I that weird lizard-like creature which can do the same thing.
I am the spy who can blend in with a crowd and be seen but not seen, I am the person who can melt into walls and disappear; I am the person who can slip down dark alleys never to be seen again and this is why I have earned the name “The Chameleon”.
All the words over all the years piled up and rotted, becoming toxic.
When they were putrid enough, I published them.
Actions may speak louder than words, but words will always influence actions.
Words can make you cry, laugh or even sing with joy, which is why we must never forget them.
Market share, market share, market share.
Empty words, empty words, empty words.