[x]

2. ClockYour hand curls around your waist.

Stop.
Waist-length hair spilling over your shoulders.

Stop.
Water seems to be pooling on the floor.

....stop.
Salty water.

Stop!
It's flowing from your eyes.

Gasp.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh."

Her eyes were wide, clutching the book in her hands, she stumbled back. "Hello."

She offered a hand.

He took it, smiling gently.

A moment later, he let go, and she stood. Content.

She shook her head.

"It's alright."

He leaned to the right slightly, gazing past her shoulder. "We'll see."

A slight frown appeared, as she tightened her hold on the b

Doyle's CuriosityDoyle had never seen or touched a dollar bill.

Of course, he had heard about what was called now as physical money—but it was only in the context of "It's a good thing that we all got rid of physical money a long time ago. It's really less hassle!"

Doyle was used to the concept of EC. After all, it was all he had known, and he had possessed an EC card since he was eight years old. That was the age the government gave children EC cards, and parents were required to place an allowance (however meager they wished) into the card.

EC, or electronic currency for short, was adopted by the United States and most European countries before Doyl

DanceHeart don't fail me
Legs shaking
Arms aching
She's the only one I want to see

I curse the days beneath the sea
Heart racing
Anxiety rising
She stands before me

My heart has never been so free
Our long awaited meeting
Our goal of dancing
May finally be

Loki's RedemptionReturned to Asgard to face punishment
Embraced by Frigga and Sigyn upon his return
Dark looks are given by others
Except Thor and surprisingly Odin
More cat calls and sneers
Prisoner in his old room
The All-Father granted him forgiveness
It was hard for him to say no
Odin smiled
Now the sons of Odin are home

AbyssA hand rose up,
Gliding along a crack.
Her eyes travelling up,
To find them staring back.

An empty brown.
Swirling in its own,
Reality.

And her hand left the mirror,
Halfway.
The distance from the reflection,
And her neck,

And she clasped,
The sides.
Feeling the warmth travel through.

But the coloured liquid,
Didn't change at all.

She woke with a start.

Couldn't see anything but the moonlight flittering,
Through the cracks of a broken window.

I see that number in your eye.
The spirals it's creating.
The chaos it's spreading.

The remnants of a dream still clinging to her conscious mind.

I can see your outline.
The shadows it's casting

A FeelingAnd the loneliness,
Eats away souls.

SilenceSnap.

The thread tightens around her wrist.

Snatching up her skin.

Blood pools.

The thread stretches in to the ceiling.

Holding up the arms of a soul long past.

A thread so small, so weak.

Holding the weight of a boulder refusing to float.

Her eyes travel up to the lone window,

A gentle sunlight flittering through.

Her tears have dried.

Locked in a room for a small eternity.

A white dress.

Once an epitome of kindness,

Singed with the remains of a burning desire.

A desire to feel.

A desire to win.

A soul no longer retained,

In that tiny little body.

It gazes into the eyes of herself, trying to get back in.

DifferentiateAnd she-

No, that's not right ... try again.

The pen rolled around in her palm, she-

....no. Not like that either, hold on.

She faced another, the realisation dawni-

.......

What was-

This is ridiculous.

-----------------

There wasn't anything I could do, not at that moment.

So I dropped the pen.

Turning around, all too satisfied to see the darkened sky outside my window.

I turned the lights off.

In the safety of my room, no words from anyone else, no distractions, nothing but the papers, pens, pencils, colouring tools, scattered all over my desk.

Slivers of the recent past, playing out in the light of the moon.

Regrets, and th

Ink and ToolsIt spreads like wildfire.
The colour fleeing.
You press down harder.
The colour travels.

You wonder why.
There's beauty.

There's nothing there.
But the remnants of ink.
On a paper to be filled.

You wonder why.
There's so much more to that one colour.

You frown.

You test it.
An irreversible space.
An irreversible time.

And a smile graces your lips.
As you gentle your grip.
And the flow slows.

You don't mind really.
There's just so much more to be done.

3. Equivalence"Let go."

"For the last time, let it go!" Her hands quivering, shaking, the coldness sinking into her bones.

Black wisps of smoke were rising off of her butterfly.

He refused to listen, hair, jacket, clothes, everything, fighting the force of the violent current, trying to tear his skin apart.

"No." He scowled, digging his fingers into the swords grip. "Not yet."

Her eyes widened, dragged her feet across, barely making any progress. "Damn it!" Crystalline ice-like water dropping from her eyes.

----------

Ink Eno Oel Ith Osev.

----------

Wish upon a wish, upon a wish, upon a wish,
Cascading waterfall,

ButterflyIf I let you go will you come back?

Will you be my butterfly

And come back to love once again?

Will you wait for me in the pouring rain

Ready to take me into your arms

To say such sweet thing

Such sweetness of love

And that you will never leave me again.

Will you come back untouched

So we can share our love once again,

Without it being tainted,

By another woman.

So I can know it is true love.

Theme Prompt - FamilyDean walked back into Bobby's house, cradling his throbbing hand. There was a track in the dirt from how many times he had walked this path. He headed into the library, needing a drink of the whiskey Bobby kept there. Bela and Gabriel walked in at the sound of his footsteps, curiousity on both their faces.

"Gabriel, can you fix my hand?" Dean asked, holding out his broken hand. "Sudden contact with an angel's face was not good for it." Gabriel chuckled and ran his fingers over the broken bones. They knitted back together and Dean flexed it. He laughed at the stunned look on Bela's face.

"What?" Dean asked sharply. "Didn't believe in angels?

PossessionYou lie

You deceive

You enslaved me

To obey

To take the blame

To be the evil one

To do as you wish

But I saw the evil

And I tried to get away

But I was a possession of yours

You are a soulless creature

You use me to get what you want

But I am weak

For I cannot help but to obey you

Your words echo in my mind

And take over my heart

And lock away my soul

So that you would be my only judgment

And I your zombie puppet

And you my substance of life

I will be silent and obedient

As your slave

Once again

Just to expose the evil

Within you

Only to be possessed once again

With in my blood let it be true

I will be free of you

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GuessThere's a dent

There's a hole

There's a spot

There's a bruise

There's an overused centre

There's a worn layer

There's a disused smelter

There's a neglected slayer

There's a little dreamer

There's a worried realist

There's a frightening smear

There's a dreaming perfectionist

There's a window forming

There's a cycle starting

There's a beat slowing

There's an irritated vibe

There's a track breaking

Free of a room where no thought dwells

One can never hope to explain the

Distanc

ResonateTake a step and feel the ripples in your existence
Take a leap and feel the earth bend

And you splash against the air~
With your ideas and your hair~

Turn n' spin, feel the fabric sway
Turn n' spin, look the other way

And you splash against the air~
With your ideas and your hair~

There's a storm waiting right outside your door
There's a storm breaking right in front of you

Step back and feel the time slow~
Step back and hear your existence let go~

I have a wish here in my hand
I wish to know where I stand
In this forever-forsaken land

Step back and feel the time slow~
Step back and hear your existence let go~

I'm drowning in

SkiesSkies turned red
Forced along a path
At a speed I couldn't follow
The ground shaking
Vision fading
As I trembled
Clutching
Gasping

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Submitted: November 2, 2012
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1. Variance

by *Entitaria, Nov 2, 2012, 7:58:39 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Spiritual & Occult / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

Tap.

Click.

Tap, tap, tap.

Snap.

Tap. Click, click.

Tap, tap, click, click.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, click.

-----

"That won't help."

She leaned against the door-frame, a variance of colours following in her wake.

I sighed. Slouching, shuffling to the side a little. "I know." I pushed the mouse away.

She hummed, stepping into the room, taking in the stark white colour, papers scattered around, sketches half-done. A single notepad on the pale desk.

"I know."

The colours around her seemed dull for a moment. Vanished altogether, eyes downcast, while open. "Here." Her hand reached into her pocket, reappearing with a pen and butterfly pin.

I took the pen.

"Humph." She took another step, and turned my face. "You're wearing this whether you like it or not, and you know perfectly well why." She swivelled my chair around.

I didn't fight it.

Only stared blankly at the mirrored image of the room. A slight prickling sensation, at the base of my neck, transformed, as a cool metal seeped into my skin. I focused on my reflection, seeing the cool, black, metal spirals around my neck, the butterfly now a part of my skin, embedded between my collar bones.

The shape moved, slightly, ever so slightly. An almost blindingly cold blue.

"Hey."

A hand shook me out of my reverie.

"We, need to leave."

-----

Dear, sweet girl. Why are you still dreaming?

^{"I... am dreaming, because..."}

1. Varianceby *Entitaria

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Spiritual & Occult / Flash Fiction & Vignettes

This is just, something very...raw. My motivations will remain, in my head.

[link]

I'm turning this into a series called 'Dephemivoul'.

4. Distortion of FragmentsHer hand gravitated,
To the glass,
The surface rippling,
Waves scattering in time.

All that left her mouth was a breathy gasp.

Molten,
Bronze and gold,
Staring back at her.
And all she could think of was,

She could,

Feel,

Her hand touching another.

As distorted glass was left to drift,

At the
soles
of
her

5. Dreamt EscapeHer hands dug into the ground, and began to gently slide the remaining sand off her find.

A shadow cast onto her.

"Found something?" Her colleague asked, moving her sunglasses to her hat.

"You tell me." She took a brush from her little pack, brushing away the dirt trapped in the engravings. She pushed her hand out, showing the other the small but thick tablet, an ornate silver design covered the edge, and dropped off into the corners, as if it was melting.

She took the tablet from her, carefully balancing it in her gloved hands.

"These markings..." Her eyes widened slightly, a tint of surprise in them "How, no, why are they so perfectly

^{^{___________
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Critique by ~TheFS Dec 27, 2012, 6:25:04 AM

My name’s Ed, hello! I’ll be leaving you feedback thanks to #SuperWritersHelp!

I love the opening. It’s very simple and very effective. The progression from italics, to regular, to bold works well to heighten the effect. Even after finishing reading, I’m not sure what the desired effect was, but nonetheless, I think it works well.

Some specific notes/comments:
-I’d be temped to have “That won’t help.” on a line of its own. It’s more cutting.
-“I sighed. Slouching, shuffling to the side a little.” – lovely alliteration
-How can you ‘tak[e] in the stark white colour’ of a room. This doesn’t really mean anything. What effect does it mean? By taking something in, there needs to be a reaction on the part of the ‘taker-iner’. It could be more interesting to hear its effect.
-"Here." (capital S)he reached into her pocket(period) Her hand reappear(ed) with a pen and butterfly pin.” – the use of ‘ing’ modifies the last action, in this case reaching into her pocket. You use ‘reappearing’ as an inverse modifier that actually creates another action in a chronological order. They need to be stated as separate.
-“She took another step, turned my face.” – there should either be an ‘and’ between these two clauses, or a semicolon and ‘she’.
“She took another step and turned my face.”
“She took another step; she turned my face.”
-“I didn't fight it.” – nice. It’s simple, but effective at portraying their relationship, and trust.
-“Only stared blankly at the mirrored image of the entire room.” – this sentence is missing a subject. Could be rephrased as: ‘I stared blankly at…’
-“The shape moved, slightly, ever so slightly. An almost blindingly cold blue.” – favourite line. The repetition is good, and the image of blindingly cold blue (alliteration) works really well. A good, creative job.
-The end is equally creative. It’s like a dream, where you wake up before the actual important discovery. I really like it. It leaves the meaning ambiguous.

Overall, it’s a lovely piece, with a good amount of description. There’s not much by the way of explanation, but I think that doesn’t matter. You’ve created a new world through character decisions (like the acceptance of whatever happened with the butterfly) and it seems real enough for the reader to accept and enjoy.

There’s nothing really I can say to improve it. It’s wonderful how it is!