The first punch sent me reeling, more out of shock than pain. I couldn't tell what hurt more, my throbbing jaw or the look of disgust on his face. I've never seen tenderness morph into shame so fast. A flash of guilt flickered on his face. 

"He deserves more than that for what he just did," his father growled at him.

The uncertainty I had just seen slid off as the second punch came in. This time, the punch hurt...

didn't want to leave these
broken dreams scattered
on the cold floor
but, what difference does it make?
you can't fix everything with
melted hope and sticky stubbornness
so, i leave them there
please step over because
i'm not picking them up

I have a memory of one evening when Holmes and I were resting in our lodgings at Baker Street, Holmes sitting Turk fashion in his favourite armchair in his mouse-coloured dressing gown, fingertips touching to form a peak as sharp as his mind. I was lounging as usual in the other. The former had recently puzzled out an awkward little enigma which I cannot as yet share with the public, but his mind was inactive for want of a case, and was relying on...

Muting the helpless screams of the infant lying next to her, Shay continued to light the spoon that held the key to all of her problems. The cool, early morning breeze soothed her skin as the toxins entering her body begin to sting her insides.
"Waahhhh!" the hungry baby cried in agony. Angrily, she snatched the infant up from the old couch, walked to the window and instantly was at peace. 

Okay, I have a dilemma. 
So. Basically, my dog ate my homework. Unfortunately, one my teachers never believes it when somebody swears up and down that their dog ate their homework. Sure, it's a weak argument when a person without a dog says, "My friend's dog ate my homework," but my teacher won't even accept it when people with dogs, like me, forget their homework. I mean, she won't accept it when their dogs eat their homework. But this time,...

Your knocks usually came after a fight with your girlfriend.  One knock for I'm ok, three for I'm not.  I listened through our shared wall, wishing it was me on the other side instead of her.

I attend your funeral through Facebook.  She sits up front, right next to the casket, wearing a ring over satin gloves.  I am jealous of the million ways she knew you, the million ways I didn't.  I wonder if the ring is yours.

There are...

You walk in, half soaked. Your eyes scan the room for a towel but all you find is a kitchen hand rag; the others are dirty. You curse the laundry for being dirty and you curse yourself for not having the self-discipline to have done it eight days ago. You rip off your (probably) soon-to-be moldy clothes and grab a pair of pajama pants from the floor next to the bed. They’re probably dirty too, but you pretend not to...

The thoughts cross my mind quickly, each second a new thought pops up. I hardly get enough time before the next one. Its a constant struggle I deal with.

I grab my pen and notebook. My pen slowly moves down, its like its reaching for the paper. Finally, my pen reaches the paper.

I freeze.

I'm lost in my thoughts.

Suddenly they vanish.

I forget everything. Its like i'm suddenly uninspired. Its sad.

The ink oozes out of the pen. It all looks like a...

The clack of a gear
The turn of a cog
A preposterous way to see through the fog
Of the Code among Codes
The riddle of war
But the German's Enigma an enigma no more,
Because of a man
Who lived in disgrace
Living a life of rejection and hate
And who kindled the fire
Burning inside
And poured it into his work as he tried
To break Enigma -
An impossible feat
He built a machine and when it...

An infant solving for the meaning of words, a young girl staring at the illustration of the Pyramids, an adolescent boy gazing into the inner workings of a motor, a middle-aged woman starting a new book, an old man trekking to see windings of the Grand Canyon; It is the language of curiosity that awake us all; 

The first punch sent me reeling, more out of shock than pain. I couldn't tell what hurt more, my throbbing jaw or the look of disgust on his face. I've never seen tenderness morph into shame so fast. A flash of guilt flickered on his face. 

"He deserves more than that for what he just did," his father growled at him.

The uncertainty I had just seen slid off as the second punch came in. This time, the punch hurt...

didn't want to leave these
broken dreams scattered
on the cold floor
but, what difference does it make?
you can't fix everything with
melted hope and sticky stubbornness
so, i leave them there
please step over because
i'm not picking them up

I have a memory of one evening when Holmes and I were resting in our lodgings at Baker Street, Holmes sitting Turk fashion in his favourite armchair in his mouse-coloured dressing gown, fingertips touching to form a peak as sharp as his mind. I was lounging as usual in the other. The former had recently puzzled out an awkward little enigma which I cannot as yet share with the public, but his mind was inactive for want of a case, and was relying on...

Okay, I have a dilemma. 
So. Basically, my dog ate my homework. Unfortunately, one my teachers never believes it when somebody swears up and down that their dog ate their homework. Sure, it's a weak argument when a person without a dog says, "My friend's dog ate my homework," but my teacher won't even accept it when people with dogs, like me, forget their homework. I mean, she won't accept it when their dogs eat their homework. But this time,...

Your knocks usually came after a fight with your girlfriend.  One knock for I'm ok, three for I'm not.  I listened through our shared wall, wishing it was me on the other side instead of her.

I attend your funeral through Facebook.  She sits up front, right next to the casket, wearing a ring over satin gloves.  I am jealous of the million ways she knew you, the million ways I didn't.  I wonder if the ring is yours.

There are...

You walk in, half soaked. Your eyes scan the room for a towel but all you find is a kitchen hand rag; the others are dirty. You curse the laundry for being dirty and you curse yourself for not having the self-discipline to have done it eight days ago. You rip off your (probably) soon-to-be moldy clothes and grab a pair of pajama pants from the floor next to the bed. They’re probably dirty too, but you pretend not to...

The clack of a gear
The turn of a cog
A preposterous way to see through the fog
Of the Code among Codes
The riddle of war
But the German's Enigma an enigma no more,
Because of a man
Who lived in disgrace
Living a life of rejection and hate
And who kindled the fire
Burning inside
And poured it into his work as he tried
To break Enigma -
An impossible feat
He built a machine and when it...

An infant solving for the meaning of words, a young girl staring at the illustration of the Pyramids, an adolescent boy gazing into the inner workings of a motor, a middle-aged woman starting a new book, an old man trekking to see windings of the Grand Canyon; It is the language of curiosity that awake us all; 

i was born on the night of a full moon. my mother always told me that was a good sign. she thought it was god's way of telling us that i would live a full life. 
but, i think i would prefer a crescent moon. wouldn’t it be reassuring to know that the moon was smiling on the day of your birth?
~
susan showed me a new constellation. it was a rose. i had never seen it before.
“looking...

on the day of her birth, the mortal world was filled with life. flowers danced to the wind. trees waved goodbye. or perhaps they waved hello. it's impossible to tell. and i saw a corpse flower bloom. one that, just yesterday, seemed to be staying true to it's name. hope seemed to have taken over despair. so, i named her elpida. 

elpida was a jubilant child. she did everything with true meraki.she made the clouds of olympus shake when she...