i-was-someone-once

Gerard knew well enough he should forget about Raymond Toro. He knew it wasn't healthy or safe for him to spend so much time secretly longing for simple words in return from him. There wasn't much he could do since the war, though. Most men his age had been drafted—gone for a while by now. Since Gerard had been in college when the draft took place, he was exempt. But the same could not be done for Raymond. Ray was an automobile mechanic who worked in a bodyshop adjacent to Gerard's house. Gerard wasn't a car person at the time—in fact, he still isn't—so they quickly became friends once Ray started seeing Gerard once, someti

“I want to be interred after I die,” Mr. Peters said. He made that clear to his family while he was still lucid, before old age and illness rendered him unintelligible. Seventy wasn’t that old, but he recognized the symptoms that were creeping up on his ailing body – the aches, the fatigue, the feeling of helplessness and despair. Despite his daughter’s attempts to assuage his concerns, he sensed his own mortality. The worst part about dying, Mr. Peters thought, was what happened afterwards. Even since he was a small boy, he had been afraid of fire. He could never forget the scorching heat of the orange fla

The flesh on the sole of her naked foot tore when she stepped over the plastic part of some human necessity left as a fatal present for an unlucky bird's digestive track. However, her moon eyes did not blink and she didn't pause to inspect the injury. It was if that moment had never happened. And had it? She didn't seem to notice, and on the roof of a long abandoned building, neither did anyone else. The coroner might—and that, perhaps, is evidence that such an event transpired—but even he, when he went to the bar that night, would replace the thought of that insignificant mark with thoughts of those pretty naked girls on the pole.

   I still remember the night I saw them for the first time. Their cold eyes, their black suits, their white teeth. Their mocking smiles.   Back then everybody used to tell me they're not going to hurt me. But even then I knew how wrong they were…   It was one of the coldest nights of the year. The month was December, Christmas was coming. The cold hand of the wind had torn the clouds, covering everything with soft white moonlight, making the snow shine like silver. I was staring through the window, watching them. I knew what they were.   They were vampires.   "And if they get me and the sun goes down into the ground…?", I

I am consumed by a love concocted of carnivals, carousels, and the color green. My heart beats to the sound of the circus but if I were a lion, you could not tame me. I want to be wild and free with you, feel you, feel your thoroughbred horse skin over muscle, then muscle against bone until we are running with our backs to the neon lights, moving through time in a space of supernovas, completely unbridled movement of hips and hooves and heavenly angels, then it's your firefly wings burning through me like a Saturday night fever and I'm sweltering under your touch, but my love for you is strange because as you hold me with empty arm

In a dark alley Surrounded by the street lights You took your turning to the unknown And stepped into those terrifying nights With your every step,the echo of your shoes Your soul trembled with a specific sound And you were afraid,almost on your knees. But you saw a red light and turned around It pulled you in So deep,so deep Think,you fool! But it has already captured you. Oh so sweet the smell of the sin You gave every atom of your body I will love you,beauty is found within. Yes I will Run,run before you lose your chance Before it takes your soul The sky is getting empty But the light had other plans It's hand wen

   Victoria entered the room of her new home, where there was the new shiny black grand piano. Her husband and she had bought it, like many other wealthy married couples. But they had not done for show like their parents, for example, but because they simply loved music and especially that wonderful instrument, that Victoria was never allowed to touch and from which Victor could take such beautiful melodies. So beautiful that it was practically impossible to describe. You had to feel them... you had to listen... to experience the magical sensations that caused... That might be a good word to describe what she felt the first time she heard Vic