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Submitted to Contest #246
“I signed them.” The vocal cords snapped the frailness of the woman’s throat. Her cold hands gripped tightly onto her own, each singular joint seemed to pop and crack with even the smallest of movement the women procured. Once having tan skin that was kissed by the sun has grown paler and paler; hugged sympathetically by the moon now. The disheveled man, scuffed up by time as it ticks through his endless, sleepless nights, comes to sit next to her and listen to the creakiness of the struggling swings. For a moment he could make out the ...
Submitted to Contest #244
Old photos always seem to have a lasting effect on the mind. Most people believe they remember that specific moment, the smell, the temperature, whether they were happy or sad; but that isn’t really true. No one actually remembers a photo, it's just an image of ourselves created in a pix elated world that the mind forcefully tries to spark a feeling or correlation to what the photo means. I however, still enjoy the crisped fixtures of opted memories of my childhood, boxed away in dusted containers that seem to always call me back to relieve ...
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