Struggling for a muse did I stumble forth into the gibbering maw of the world. I fell into the Grave clutching the baby-blue journal that freed my soul and the brick that both chained It and mashed my head in.
A small smile played on his lips as he thought back to the moment he had taken her life and how it filled him with utter satisfaction to press his thumbs deep into her throat as she tried to cry out and how with each breath wasted on cries for help he would press his fingers tighter in a cold calculating squeeze until finally her body went lifeless filling him with the power of her death. His smile faded as he snapped out of his memories upon hearing the metal bars of his cage slide shut confining him for the rest of his natural life or until they decided if he was worthy of the needle.
A single tear slid down his cheek, uncomfortable emotions clogged his throat, and anger pulsed at the injustice of it all when the tiny, perfect hand clasped his finger. With a frustrated sigh, he hugged the baby close, stood, and cast a last look at the carnage that represented two ruined lives, before walking around the lifeless body and handing the precious bundle to the waiting social worker.
I’m scared of heights sometimes because when I was about ten I nearly fell off a cliff, which would have surely killed me.
Sometimes I wonder if that was one of those “killing some evil guy before he became evil” situations.
Every day the janitor put on a lab coat and walked the halls, comforting patients, family and friends.
The hospital dare not fire him because deaths have dramatically dropped.
After seventeen long days of a trial that had been postponed for two long and brutal years, she finally had her chance to ask the defendant one question that has been burned in her brain since the day she found his body.
“Who the hell gave you the right to play God with my father’s life?” she screamed, crying, as she swatted the taste clean out of the murderer’s mouth.
You are half right about what I said.
I did say “until death” but I wasn’t talking about me.
I love her so much, I’m the most lucky guy on earth for making love with her everyday.
I even start to be familiar with the rotten smell.
“I love you,” he whispered and again I started to cry. His kisses were still sweet but the scent of the cemetery was in his funeral suit.
One night, a man ran out of gas and found himself lost and walking down a long country road surrounded by corn fields when he finally comes upon an old, picture perfect, farm house with the porch light on. He knocks and an older woman answers the door, welcomes him in and says “sure, we would love to have you for dinner” just as he notices that the family sitting at the table has a fileted human head on a platter.
I’m so excited to go home that I didn’t realize the trail of liquid behind me as I walk to my front door. The door opened and I can hear my mom shouting to my dad that I was stabbed multiple times and left to rot in a ditch since yesterday.
The nurse walked into room and found her patient crying and hiding under the covers. When the nurse asked what was wrong the patient pointed to the other side of the bed and asked “can you please make the man in black leave, he’s making me nervous?”
When I found a Polaroid picture of a young girl with her eyes closed and expressionless lips, I assumed someone had thrown it out because it was a mistake. The day my mother died, I stumbled across the photo again but now, there was a strange smile on her face.
I always thought that death was inevitable until someone in an alley convinced me otherwise with some simple persuasion. It turns out I was right the first time.
Do you tell the whore that you killed her son?
Or do you oblige her pretense of virginity?
I sat there crying in the corner. She called a friend to comfort me, but the feel of cold metal piercing through my heart seemed more comforting.
Diet sodas are now being sold in seven ounce cans. I feel a little better knowing that I am drinking death in smaller doses.
Bessie, my white-faced golden retriever, trotted over to greet me with a smile and a wagging tail as she always does. She’s the best dog I’ve ever had, and I only wish I was still alive so I could give her the belly rub she so rightfully deserves.
“What do you think will happen if we all lived forever??” “The same thing that has been happening since we came into existence; killing each other and ruining the environment out of greed”
Most people remember the bright blood stains on the wall. I only remember his laughter, crisp, loud, a beautiful piercing sound-rainbow.