Categories
Creative Writing Love

Name

What do I call this?

Love?

Limerence?

This feeling of despondency that covers me when you’re not near.

This need to see your face.

This madness to hold your hand.

This smile I wear when I smell you so familiar.

This want to see you standing next to me.

This despair I feel when you don’t call. 

I think I will call it — Love.

Categories
Creative Writing Horror

Entitled

He loved Snickers the best. The way he rolled his tongue teasing away the peanuts from the chocolate and nougat made his cheeks flush; the pleasure centers of his brain always hit overdrive and pump out dopamine like there’s no tomorrow.

The only thing standing between a Snickers bar and him was his Mum. But whatever Eric wants, Eric always gets. Today, Eric wants a Snickers bar; make that 5 bars. He promised his Mum he won’t have a temper tantrum like the last few times; it got so serious they had to pack up their things and leave town.

But Eric knows that promises are meant to be broken; that’s where the fun lies after all. So when they reached the cashier, he quickly picked up 5 candy bars and threw them into the grocery basket. His Mum fixed her eyes on him and pursed her lips into a red lipstick line of worried discontent. She took the 5 bars and growled menacingly — No.

That set Eric off. He screwed his eyes shut and his jugular vein started throbbing vehemently. The cashier calmly watched this exchange of passive-aggressive body language and wondered where her boyfriend might take her out for dinner tonight. She really hoped it was not going to be Dominos; she’s done with pizza and anchovies for good!

As she was dispelling one junk food establishment after the other, she suddenly had a craving for a chocolate sundae with whipped cream and maraschino cherries. Her salivary glands embraced this picture with alacrity, and as she mentally dug in with her imaginary spoon into her make believe sundae, she didn’t realize that her cashier box, which she had opened, had coins that were shivering.

First they shivered ever so slightly; then they jiggled. It was at that point the cashier forgot about her sundae cravings and looked at the coins which were slowly and steadily floating up into the air. Silence diluted sound, and she slowly turned her head towards mother and son who were staring at each other angrily. It took some time to register, but it occurred to her in a dreamlike state that a mandarin was levitating and rotating around at the same time. A nervous giggle escaped her mouth while simultaneously a trickle of urine climbed down her leg.

It was when the mother turned her eyes away and said — Fine. Have your candy! — did everything that was defying gravity gracefully and politely land exactly where they were impossibly lifted up from. The cashier (displaying an open mouth with a trickle of saliva creeping down her lips which was caused by her imaginary chocolate sundae) was staring straight into the obsidian eyes of the mother who simply asked — How much is the bill?

Categories
Creative Writing Love

A Kindness Wasted

The only reason I gave you this kindness was because I cared.

Some of us give more than we take.

I didn’t expect the rest.

I didn’t expect you to take this kindness and think that it was forgiveness.

You took that kindness as weakness and as forgiveness and started life anew — with someone else.

That kindness was a kiss. A kiss that was meant to heal and build a bridge.

Your tone was a bit removed. I inhaled your rejection. It stinks.

But you know, don’t you? It’s us. The ones who break that save the ones that broke.

Categories
Creative Writing Horror

Your Sad Life Got Sadder

Did you know that your kind can only see 1% of the visible light spectrum?

You don’t see 99% of the rest of the world.

I reside in the 99% of this world.

It’s vast.

It’s morbid.

It’s despondent.

A few of your kind thought they saw me, but put it down to a figment of their imagination.

You can’t imagine what life is like here.

Your Bruno sniffs and sees me at times.

And he whimpers.

He should.

Where I reside, he is food.

As are you.

Categories
Creative Writing Horror

Campfire In The Sky

She never expected this: flesh giving away to a knife.

What she really didn’t expect was that knife to be held by her husband.

(A few minutes later, a complementary thought walked unbidden to her mind: I guess he got his pound of flesh.)

Who would have thought that there were thoughts of murder marinating in his office room.

Hatred came whistling through in the shape of a knife thrust.

Gone were the days when he used to tilt his heart in her direction.

He used to say: I can be polite or compassionate or I can tell you the truth. But the truth is neither.

That was a truffle of truth she failed to bite.

Dutiful as ever, she obeyed his command to bleed to death.

As she turned her eyes to the night sky so she could be spared his face, she thought she saw a star winking in the dark as she bled her last.

But what it really was were two angels around a campfire looking down from the heavens at her.

Just two angels enjoying the warmth of a fire in a cold sky with no inkling of a desire to help.

Categories
Creative Writing Horror

Tempus & Potentia

Tempus is time.

Potentia is power.

Time is forever.

Power only corrupts.

Tempus and Potentia with hands held tight walked the streets of history to and fro.

Potentia drunk on the possibilities that are and could be poisoned rulers and lovers against each other.

Potentia’s blood lust wandered away until armies were decimated and countries were driven to dust.

Tempus tried to seduce calmness into Potentia’s heart, but Potentia’s eyes, which were dark as obsidian, glanced at her right hand and traced the shape of a bejewelled sword.

Feeling jealousy course through her veins, Potentia drove her sword into Tempus.

But Tempus didn’t flinch.

Instead Tempus reached out and reached into his aumonière and (with a tear or two) switched off the existence that is Potentia.

As Tempus traversed time, he smiled fondly and reflected on the conversations with Potentia that once was.

That smile widened in relief as Tempus realized that it never was.

Categories
Creative Writing Love

+1

I needed a +1 for life.

Not a Lebanon.

But a Sweden.

I just wanted your No Uncertain Terms to be Certain enough.

You just wanted me to believe your lies long enough so I couldn’t focus on your real moves.

I didn’t want the demons of your trauma to follow you towards me.

I didn’t want your curled-lip cruelty.

We were both on a flight to destination Sadness.

I realized too late that I had bought a one-way ticket.

You’ll never know what a heart of a widow is like.

But now it’s easy to forget you with every post my new beloved makes.

Every newsfeed I subscribed to has washed you away.

Categories
Creative Writing Horror

Pansy

You have something of mine.

It’s called self-respect.

You look at me with a smirk.

I look at you with a grin.

Your smirk looks concerned.

I can understand why.

It’s the Pansy whose hand holds a knife.

I’m ready to take something of yours.

That is if you can’t return something of mine.

Categories
Creative Writing Love

Loaded

You made a dick move.

Now it’s my turn.

I’ve blown into the chamber and eyed it hard.

6 chambers so loaded.

Now I’ve cocked it.

I’m taking my aim.

And just fired a question at you.

— Do you still love me?

I watch you — freeze, stutter, whimper and lick your lips.

I fire 5 more.

— Do you still love us?

— Do you dare leave now?

— Was it a him?

— Was it a her?

— Will you let me kiss you Good Bye?

I watch you take a knee to the floor.

Answer-less.