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Daily Lit Deviations for May 12th, 2012
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Featured by: betwixtthepages
A short rhyming poem, Forest Fires hits on a feeling all
readers have acknowledged at some point: the sense that they
are not where they should be, or want to be, in life or their relationships.
Featured by: Nichrysalis
little white liestissue paper skin and barbed wire spines
"i haven't been sleeping well."
butterfly wing smiles and porcelain bones
"the medicine will help."
sparrow hearts and rose petal hair
undersea eyes and sailboat stomachs
"these things pass in time."
A poem with a slightly disturbing tilt and extraordinary description.
Featured by doodlerTM
Don't Want to Go HomeDamn, it was hot. If there was a kind and loving God, He would know that there had never been, nor would there ever be any good reason for it to be this damned hotespecially when you threw in the humidity. The heat was a physical thing, clinging to the back of your throat as you breathed, bowing your shoulders under its might. The sweat it caused was not the slick, clean thing of hard work or exercise, but something that slithered over your skin, smothering you like a coat of rancid oil. The second you stepped out of your front door, you could feel it as you passed over the barrier and entered the heat. Made you want to turn right back around and take a shower to wash it off. I had air conditioning at my house, but that would mean I had to go home.
There was a beverage in front of mesome iced, caffeinated thing; I wasn't paying attention when the barrista rattled off the complicated name of whatever "something cold" translated to in Starbucksbut I'd mostly forg
A rambling and thought-provoking little monologue about
a man whose life is perfect...too perfect.
Suggested by: LadyofGaerdon
Featured by: SilverInkblot
being a vampire really limits your career choices"You know, for years, I wanted to become a priest."
I looked up from the apple I was slicing and raised an eyebrowa habit I'd picked up from him in the weeks since we'd met.
"What made you change your mind?" I asked him, dropping my gaze again.
"The Church only accepts blood-drinking when it relates to the Mass."
I laughed in spite of myself.
"I'd have thought it was the immortality thing."
"Well, that, too." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile. "It would have raised suspicion after a few decades."
I speared a slice of apple on the end of the knife and offered it to him. Rather than plucking off, he delicately bit it off the blade, flashing long, grey fangs in the process. He smiled again when I blushed and took the knife away.
"You'd have made a good priest, I think," I told him. "You're really, uh, warm."
"In a metaphorical way, I trust?"
"Well, yeah." I caught his free hand in one of mine, letting the chill seep into my fingers for a second before I continued. "But I
From the Suggester: "A wry, almost tongue-in-cheek piece of
flash fiction, filled with subtle yet effective humor."
Featured by doodlerTM
Sounds Like MauveWhat had finally driven her over the edge, Dr. Schwartz recorded, was that she couldn't hear the grapes.
Certainly they tasted fine, at least Marian made the same happy sounds she always made when she plopped a seedless red into her mouth and squeezed it with her teeth. The anomaly occurred when they opened her visor.
"Dr. Schwartz?" It was one of the new nurses. "Dr. Schwartz, Marian's parents are here. They said you called?"
"What? Yes, yes, I did call them." Schwartz sighed, tapped a few more notes and slid the stylus back into the sheathe on the side of his tablet. "How is she?"
"Asleep. The sedatives have taken hold."
"Good. I'm going to bring Marian's parents in to see her. I would appreciate it if you could remove her restraints for a bit, just until they leave. Would that be a problem?"
"Of course not, doctor. I'll take care of it."
Schwartz shook her father's hand with a tight grip, looking the man in the eye. He set his other hand reassuringly on her mother's shoulder, saying
An intriguing and dark short story that
thoroughly examines issues of morality.
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Prepared by: SilverInkblot