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M. Elyse Lynch

Australia

Hi Everyone! Welcome to my account! I'm glad you're here! I love historical fiction, and am a huge fan of psychological thriller and real-life Drama. So yeah, I hope you enjoy reading my work!

Message from Writer

Welcome to my Dashboard! Make sure to review my work and let me know what you think. I will be eternally grateful!

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

Autumn Tears

FREE WRITING

The leaves were red. The sky was indigo. A chilling breeze passed through me like a ghost. The path that I walked was crusted with the remnants of what had fallen.

How beautiful it all was, and yet I couldn’t see it very well. I was wandering aimlessly, trying to outrun the tears, trying to outrun the pain that seemed to follow me, no matter where I went.

And I was losing horribly...

3 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

Don’t Say A Word

FREE WRITING

He pushed her into a corner and pinned her to the wall. His fingers squeezed the blood from her hands as he held her by her wrists. In the darkness, she could just make out a razor-sharp glint to his usually timid smile. 

"What’s this about?" she began, but she was silenced by a hush in her ear, a hush that made her veins shiver.

"Don’t say a word," was all he hissed, his nails now digging into her palms,...

4 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

At World’s End

FREE WRITING

It was like watching a billion stars explode at once. The sky was filled with fire. The earth was alive with sparks. And a thick haze blurred it all.

No one screamed. No one wailed. No one cried.

Everything stood very still, watching in silence, engulfed by the awe of what they were witnessing. It was the world’s end, after all. Where could they run?

5 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

Have Mercy

FREE WRITING

He stood by the edge of the void, his gaze fixed upon the blackness that stretched beyond. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind, his cheeks bloodless, his lips frozen apart, a tightness gripping his throat, his chest, his heart...

He'd watched her fall down into those cold depths. He wanted to call her name, but that would change nothing. She would never return...

"Have mercy," was all that he could chant. "Have mercy..."

6 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

Silhouette

FREE WRITING

He thought he saw her silhouette in the river. He thought he saw her silhouette in the forest. He thought he saw her silhouette in the ocean. He thought he saw her silhouette in the city. He thought he saw her silhouette in his own shadow. 

But despite the twinge of hope that pinched his heart, he knew that whatever he saw was not her silhouette, because it simply wasn’t possible. He would never see her silhouette again... 

7 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

The River Of Life

FREE WRITING

Her life was like a violent river. It constantly churned and flowed over the waterbed, flooding in her rain of tears and growing dry in the wake of her emptiness. 

At least he was there, like those rocks that emerged from the depths of a turbulent stream. He always knew how to calm her down...

7 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

A Ball and Chain

FREE WRITING

Life was like a ball and chain around his ankle. He dragged it around like the ultimate burden, unable to rid himself of it, unable to shake it free. It weighed him down. It made him sink further into the black depths, unable to struggle, unable to swim back to the surface, where the light was. His tears only melted away into the water that surrounded him, discarded, insignificant. And yet he felt as if it were the tears that...

11 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

The Confusion Of A Kiss

FREE WRITING

Her palm curled like a whip across his cold, umovable face, leaving a magenta stain on his cheek. Her own cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes seething like amber flames, her entire frame shaking like a leaf. To her utmost frustration, his expression had not changed at all.

"What was that for?" was all he asked, his gaze appearing almost bored. 

Her lips furled into a snarl, her face growing only redder. "For kissing me, you idiot! You can’t...

11 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

​Write to Me

PROMPT: Love in 13 Words

We were apart for two years. Every day, we wrote to each other.

Seeking Peer Reviews

11 days ago

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M. Elyse Lynch (Australia) published:

Don’t Put the Blame On Me

FREE WRITING

A fist was thrown. It slammed into delicate flesh and knocked its victim straight to the concrete. The victim felt as the breath gushed from his throat, and he spluttered, lungs clawing to be filled once more. 

His attacker - his brother - released a growl more ferocious than a tiger's. But there were tears in his eyes. The brother could see.

"It’s your fault," his brother chanted without mercy. "It’s your fault."

The brother rasped, reaching with a quivering...

14 days ago

Published Work

Autumn Tears

The leaves were red. The sky was indigo. A chilling breeze passed through me like a ghost. The path that I walked was crusted with the remnants of what had fallen.

How beautiful it all was, and yet I couldn’t see it very well. I was wandering aimlessly, trying to outrun the tears, trying to outrun the pain that seemed to follow me, no matter where I went.

And I was losing horribly...

Don’t Say A Word

He pushed her into a corner and pinned her to the wall. His fingers squeezed the blood from her hands as he held her by her wrists. In the darkness, she could just make out a razor-sharp glint to his usually timid smile. 

"What’s this about?" she began, but she was silenced by a hush in her ear, a hush that made her veins shiver.

"Don’t say a word," was all he hissed, his nails now digging into her palms, drawing crimson. "Don’t say a word..."

At World’s End

It was like watching a billion stars explode at once. The sky was filled with fire. The earth was alive with sparks. And a thick haze blurred it all.

No one screamed. No one wailed. No one cried.

Everything stood very still, watching in silence, engulfed by the awe of what they were witnessing. It was the world’s end, after all. Where could they run?

Have Mercy

He stood by the edge of the void, his gaze fixed upon the blackness that stretched beyond. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind, his cheeks bloodless, his lips frozen apart, a tightness gripping his throat, his chest, his heart...

He'd watched her fall down into those cold depths. He wanted to call her name, but that would change nothing. She would never return...

"Have mercy," was all that he could chant. "Have mercy..."

Silhouette

He thought he saw her silhouette in the river. He thought he saw her silhouette in the forest. He thought he saw her silhouette in the ocean. He thought he saw her silhouette in the city. He thought he saw her silhouette in his own shadow. 

But despite the twinge of hope that pinched his heart, he knew that whatever he saw was not her silhouette, because it simply wasn’t possible. He would never see her silhouette again... 

The River Of Life

Her life was like a violent river. It constantly churned and flowed over the waterbed, flooding in her rain of tears and growing dry in the wake of her emptiness. 

At least he was there, like those rocks that emerged from the depths of a turbulent stream. He always knew how to calm her down...

A Ball and Chain

Life was like a ball and chain around his ankle. He dragged it around like the ultimate burden, unable to rid himself of it, unable to shake it free. It weighed him down. It made him sink further into the black depths, unable to struggle, unable to swim back to the surface, where the light was. His tears only melted away into the water that surrounded him, discarded, insignificant. And yet he felt as if it were the tears that were suffocating him, not the water that he gulped helplessly into his lungs as he drowned...

The Confusion Of A Kiss

Her palm curled like a whip across his cold, umovable face, leaving a magenta stain on his cheek. Her own cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes seething like amber flames, her entire frame shaking like a leaf. To her utmost frustration, his expression had not changed at all.

"What was that for?" was all he asked, his gaze appearing almost bored. 

Her lips furled into a snarl, her face growing only redder. "For kissing me, you idiot! You can’t just kiss me and -“

A hand twisted like a vice around her arm and the weight that surged behind it slammed her back into the wall, pinning her down in a second. Before she could comprehend it, his brooding eyes were so close to her own that she could barely see anything else.

"And why can’t I?" he asked again, his voice barely even a whisper. "Is it not really about me, but about you?"

Her mouth open and...

Love in 13 Words

​Write to Me

We were apart for two years. Every day, we wrote to each other.

Don’t Put the Blame On Me

A fist was thrown. It slammed into delicate flesh and knocked its victim straight to the concrete. The victim felt as the breath gushed from his throat, and he spluttered, lungs clawing to be filled once more. 

His attacker - his brother - released a growl more ferocious than a tiger's. But there were tears in his eyes. The brother could see.

"It’s your fault," his brother chanted without mercy. "It’s your fault."

The brother rasped, reaching with a quivering hand to his distraught brother. "No. It wasn’t my fault, Oli. I get that she’s gone, and I'm sorry for that. But don’t put the blame on me."

His brother - Oli - could barely stifle a choked cry. His rage evaporated in an instant. 

"Why can’t people just say dead?..."

Dancing On the Bed

I used to have nightmares... Gut-wrenching dreams that would rip screams from me without my control. However, when he was around, he would shake me awake, turn the radio on full and ask me to dance with him on the bed. I found that my fear would quickly evaporate and the horrible images would just...disappear. It was always easier to sleep after that...

Now that he's gone though, I find those nightmares are starting to come back, and I have no one to dance with anymore...

Let Me Come Home

She stopped on the threshold, her frame overcome by quivering. Releasing a shaky breath, she raised her jittering hand to the closed door and knocked thrice. 

The door did not open immediately, and every second made her cheeks bleed out further into white. 

Finally, there was the jingle of a latch as the door gradually unhinged, revealing the person she’d both wanted and dreaded to see. 

At the sight of him, her tears spilled. 

"I've been such a fool," she sobbed, placing her face in her hands. "I-I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, but I..."

He said nothing. However, with his sad eyes and sad smile, he stepped aside, inviting her back into his home, and subsequently, back into his life...

It’s Time for Bed

"Hush now," the thing whispered in a voice that grated like sandpaper, it’s shadow hovering over the children like a dark, ominous cloud. "It’s time to go to sleep."

All the little girls and boys huddled together, shuddering. They held each other’s hands, tears frothing in their eyes, some spilling free.

The thing reached out its clawed fingers, its rotten grin stretching wider, revealing rows of needle-like teeth. 

"It’s time to go to bed."

The candles were snuffed out, and in their absence began the screams...

Death's Revenge

He watched, his veins ice and his limbs frozen, as the corpses arose like hungover sailors on a boat that rocked without relent. Their sightless eyes glared forward, glowing like fading stars, spinning like swirling pinwheels. Their hands, shredded and papery white, clawed at the air, reaching for the living. There was an anger in their slow, wavering movements, a revenge in their contorted, bloodless faces. Their souls had been stolen away, and now they wanted them back. And so they would take them, even if that meant stealing in turn.

He could not scream, not until one of their rotten hands curled around his shoulder at least...

Blood in the Water

"This water that surrounds us," he murmured in a voice that quaked, his eyes wide with madness. "It’s filled with the dead. Blood swims in this water, and turns it red."

The small, weathered boat creaked fearfully, rocking helplessly on the violent sea. 

She turned to him, dread chasing the colour away from her cheeks. "What are we going to do?"

His expression only decayed further. "Die..."

The Wolf’s Tree

The wolf trotted through the woods, its paws crackling upon the dead leaves of the forest floor. It’s long nose was low to the ground, sniffing, following a trail it knew far too well. It’s eyes were trained forward as it weaved through the numerous brambles and shrubs, glowing golden in the veil of night. It’s silver pelt was painted a lustrous blue amidst the light of the full moon.

it seemed an age the wolf walked, but it was not perturbed. It knew it’s destination, and knew that it was not much further away. 

Upon the edge of a bush-covered slope, the wolf drew to an abrupt halt. Beyond was a clearing, with an enormous willow tree situated in the centre. However, it was no normal tree, for its trunk was embellished with chunks of quartz crystal. Surrounding it was already a horde of wolves, of all different colours, shapes, and sizes. Some were members of packs, and some,...

The Battle Has Begun

The knight raised his sword, his eyes ablaze with a maddening hunger for blood beneath the confines of his helmet. The desire drove away other feelings; fear, disgust, horror. There was no time for such feelings when the battlefield was already screaming.

He turned from left to right, unsure of where to strike first, of who to first attack. His comrades were already amongst the fray, his enemies also. Gore was already painting the fields, dying it a grotesque crimson. Bodies already lay limp and hopeless beneath the feet of their executors. 

For a second, he wondered if he would make it out alive. But his thoughts evaporated when a foreign sword clanged against his own. The battle had begun...

“In January”

January

A nervousness, 
An excitement,
A fear.

Lying in bed,
Your mind wanders,
Thinking,
Of what shall come,
Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a new start,
a new chance,
a new beginning.

But you don’t feel ready,
Because it is also,
Your last chance,
To get it right.

So sleep is allusive,
And you toss and turn,
Fearing what is to come,
But waiting,
For tomorrow...

Solastalgia

Summer

You can always smell smoke. And although it is never near enough to cause panic, you can see it billowing out from the hills and the mountains, and you can watch as it turns the sky black.

it usually occurs in Summer, where the heat has become so terrible that it is dangerous to go outside. The temperature only seems to rise with each passing year. I fear that eventually, we’ll no longer have a Winter. And Winter is my favourite season.

The water evaporates from the dames and streams, leaving barren dirt beds to crack and wither in the unrelenting glare of the sun. The grass grows more brown with each passing day. You mourn it, for you remember that only a month or so ago, you only needed to look out the window to see the lush green fields that stretched beyond. And now, they’re dying...

Summer used to be a time of happiness and excitement; a time...

Crimson - One Sentence Story

It was like a red wine stain, except it wasn’t, for it hadn’t spilled from a glass, but rather a gaping hole in his chest...

The Crow

The crow. It sits by the wayside, its sleek ebony feathers buffeted by the breeze, its calculating eyes watching. Always watching...

Many find the crow to be mystifying. Does the Devil live in its depths? Or is it perhaps an angel that has fallen from heaven and has come to join us on earth, black plumage and all? Some say they are gatekeepers, those who guard the door between life and death, or perhaps any door that leads to something new. And some say that they are just birds.

Some find them to be beautiful, and some don’t. But either way, no one can deny that they are fascinating. After all, there is surely no bird more surrounded by superstition than the crow...

Hungry Flames

The flames; they leapt high, screaming, roaring, deafening. He watched as they ate her away. Their heated tendrils were like tongues, licking at her sides, tasting her. Hungry, they surrounded her and drew her in. They did not care for her agonised shrieks as they devoured her, eating her up as quickly as the trees that now withered in their wake.

All he could do was wail...

Open Prompt

A Crown

If you think about it, there is much to be found in a crown. 

There is of course centuries of tradition dripping from its jewelled girth. It also comes with the uneasy feeling of knowing that your ancestors have worn it for generations before you. As well, it is heavy with the burdens of what it means to wear it. To rule an entire nation, on the basis of where you come from and what you wear? What an absurd concept, Ezra can’t help but think. 

But then, if Ezra looks past the golden flanks and glittering diamonds, it is merely like putting on a hat. An overbearing and extravagant hat, but a hat no less. 

Ezra wondered if his ancestors thought about it in this way, and if it made it any easier to put on each morning.
 

Fernweh

Lacanima

Lacanima (n)

Definition: the emptiness that corrupts a soul during times of heartbreak and suffering.

Roots: (Latin)
1. Lacuna - a blank space, a missing part.
2. Anima - soul.

Example Sentence: Lacanima had taken over her since the moment she’d watched him fall.

WILD

WILD

The blood surges,
like a raging torrent,
or a roaring stream,
in one's veins.

The heart pounds,
like a hammer,
or a trill,
in one's ears.

The eyes widen,
the electric blue giving way,
like an embankment breaking,
and water flooding.

The muscles tighten,
like metal pistons,
ready to spring, 
ready to take flight.

The wind calls,
and all one can do is follow...

In Motion

The Hunt

A cat crept through the undergrowth, and paused in the shadow of an oak tree. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air. The odor of rotting leaves interweaved with the warm scent of a creature. Mouse. 

The cat perked her ears, listening. She heard the pulsing of its tiny hearted, and the way it rustled in the fallen bed of leaves less than half a metre away. 

A fire surged through her as she opened her eyes and crouched low against the ground. Her belly fur brushed against the dead leaves as she rocked back on her haunches and quivered. Then, she leaped

A flash of grey caught her eye, and yet she was faster. She flipped the mouse up into the air with one paw, threw it onto the bed of leaves, and sprung on top of it. She killed it with a single bite to its neck. 

She clamped it in between her teeth...

In the Stars

The soldier watched with solemn eyes as the little boy resting in his lap gazed in wonderment at the black sky above. Raising his finger, the boy pointed at one of the brightest stars that could be seen.

"You see that star? That's mum!" He moved his finger to the one blinking next to it. "And that one there's dad!"

A lump settled in the soldier's throat. He didn't say anything, but wrapped his coat tighter around the boy and closed his eyes, faking slumber.

He didn't have the heart to tell the poor orphan the truth...

Flash Fiction Competition 2017

Carnival of Rust

The burn of gunpowder within my nostrils. The scent of gasoline tainting the smoke that has become my oxygen. Flames catch upon the dirt around me. Is it possible, for dirt to ignite flames? Maybe if the dirt's covered in blood...

Amidst the ghastliness, I see you, golden hair and silver eyes, swallowed by mountains of books, at peace within the aura of paper and ink. And beside you, I sit, in awe... 

I yearn for those days again. 

So I stand, and covered in the gore of my comrades, I fight. Because I have to see you again...

Reluctant Heroes

He had lost the ability to breathe. He could not understand how, but every morsel of air he dared heave in barely reached his clenched throat before it was shoved back out, never to touch his lungs, never enough to keep the dizziness at bay. 

As he stumbled along the resounding halls, his heels thrumming clumsily upon the stone floors, he felt a nauseous fear sinking into him, making him feel an incredible heaviness that he could not shake. A chill was scratching ruthlessly at his bear skin, and yet a cold sweat was oozing out just as relentlessly, turning his standard issue uniform into a bunch of sopping rags. He wanted freedom from this stifling sensation that appeared to be clawing at him from all possible directions, and the only way it seemed to get to that point was up.

In a ragged mess, he climbed the spiralling staircase in rapid concession, desperate to reach the roof, desperate to...

Writing Small

To Grasp the Light

“M-mama? Where are you? I c-can’t…”
 
The boy pawed at the darkness...
 
Grasped nothing. 
 
A hiss. Light twitched within the blackness, the glow of the matchstick illuminating his mother’s face. She smiled and took his shuddering hands within hers.

“It’s alright. I was always with you, and always will be.”

Living in Music

Pure Imagination

Fiona Apple's version of 'Pure Imagination' is where I'd like to be. For all of my life, I've always wanted to be able to physical reach out and touch my imagination - see it, feel it, experience it, become completely lost within it... It's a scary place, and yet also a beautiful place that will mesmerise anyone who lays their eyes upon it, and I think Fiona Apple's version truly captures both the light and the darkness of one's mind. The idea of being able to travel there at will and live within it sends chills of both excitement and terror flittering down my spine. But if it all goes horribly wrong, you can simply return to reality and pretend that nothing happened at all. Yet is reality more horrible than the imaginary? I guess we'll never know...

To Wish and Never Wish

I have lived for one hundred years...
And yet, I must live for one thousand years more...
It is the price for my sins...
And all of my misgivings...

But I would rather take them all back...
Instead of being forced to live any longer...

I used to always preach to my mother how amazing it would be to live forever... To be immortal... To never die...
Yet she would always shush me, and say never to wish that upon myself or anybody else...
As a little boy, I was too naive to understand...

But with little time at all, I began to notice all that my childish eyes had once filtered out...
The obscenities of the world...
The cruelties...
The loathings...

And just like ink to water, it infected me and consumed me whole...

As a young man, I became a being of hate, a creature of greed, a fiend of lust...
'Wicked Claus' those beggars would say...
In...

Zoom Out

The Room to Death

If eyes could speak, then his crystalline blues would've been shrieking for a saviour. Someone... Anybody... He simply didn't care who... Just somebody...
And yet despite the oozing tears that chugged their way down his sunken, icy cheeks...his gaze was forward. His lips tight. His jaw clenched. A courage that could not be quelled pouring forth from his every limb.
In spite of the metallic chains that sliced holes through his wrists and bound him unsparingly to the bloodied wall behind him, in spite of the darkness that spoiled the entire quadratic chamber and suffocated his sight...he stood tall, straining against the very thing that held him captive, his face open to the room of death... Ready... Waiting... 

Turned to Stone

To See Through Walls

Should you be able to see through solid walls? Should you be able to piece them with your gaze and observe what can be found behind them? I don't know, but I can. And from behind my bedroom wall, I can see a frozen silhouette, shrouded in the impenetrable blackness of the night, made of nothing more than ivory bones and weathered flesh, so still it could have been easily mistaken as a statue. It took me many nights to realise, but I eventually figured it out. Since the day in which I turned five, Death had been watching me as I slept. 

Into the Woods

The Soul of a Tree

A tree is a singer to the gale's sonorous tune,
A loyal observer to the Earth's growing age,
A silent gazer of the night's starry sky,
A doorway to many whispered secrets if only one were to listen.

A tree extends her branches like wings that are destined to fly,
With teardrops of green that remain forever bound to her spindly fingertips.

Her trunk is her core, to which her soul resides, and where her life thrives...
 

Living Locales

London

London was a city whose sole purpose was to breathe life into the world that surrounded her. Amidst the chill of those wintery nights, she beamed brighter than any star, outshining all that dared to rival her, a gleaming sun in her own right. And yet in the day, she was as placid and as mysterious as the solemn moon, mounting the globe with her light and also her dense shadow, her heart so complex and twisted that a lover could easily grow lost. Within her centre streamed the murky waters of the River Thames, her life force, her veins, her blood. And Buckingham Palace stood as her mask, her beautiful, enchanting mask that served to show her unquenchable pride and her unshakeable resilience to the rest of the world. But underneath was perhaps something far more spellbinding indeed...

Lyrics Unsung

Blinding by Florence + the Machine

I stand in a graveyard of dreams. A colourless apse of drifting fog and ravished tombstones. Nameless. Shapeless. Dead. Gradually withering away.

Light has seeped away, just as love has seeped from my heart. A chill forever clutches my bones. Relieves the feeling from my limbs. I'm drowning. I'm choking. Lost in my depthless nightmares. Stuck within the wrong world. 

A crow calls in the silence, a devil's cry, a demon's song, warning of an end that is surely near. 

I reach out my fingers and press them upon a hidden door. A door that is transparent. A door that is nonexistent. But I know it's there. I can feel it's frigid willow surface brushing against my skin. It is my escape. My freedom. And yet I know all the same that it is locked. 

My escape behind a locked door. Forever behind a locked door...

1 Photo, 100 Words

Drowning in Blue

I stand adrift, surrounded in blue. 
Choking in it. 
Suffocating in it. 
My crippled lungs screaming.
My withered heart breaking.
But I don't struggle. I don't writhe. I don't even allow myself to cry. 
But I allow my boneless body to sink, to fall further into its implacable depths, my soul slipping free, my conscience fading away... 
I can't bear the pain anymore of those depraved, heartless eyes gouging holes straight through me. 
I can't stand it as they sneer, laugh and fawn over my same beautiful ugliness, observing through eyes already corrupt by ideal. 
So I let go...and drown...

Becoming Human

The Breath of a Rose

I am something,
Yet I am also nothing.
I stand erect against the pummelling of the rain,
My rouge skirts floundering about me,
My beauty as immaculate as ever.
But underneath, I am nothing but livid,
Ugly, with selfish and egotistical thorns,
That burrow into one's side like fangs of a viper. 
From the outside, I am passionate red.
But within, I am nothing more than snapping prickles and implacable darkness.
Are we all the same? 
I don't know, nor do I care. 
For all that matters to me,
Is to be the most gorgeous flower out of all the flowers that surround me.

Invisible Cities

Noctisina - The City of Frozen Night

NOCTISINA - a place where Hell has a face, a name, an identity. But here, Hell does not burn, nor does it simmer, nor does it flame. In fact, here, death is not an option, though many who pass through long with all the fibres of their beings that they could die here, for here, there is no light, no colour, no sound. The city is a vast chasm of darkness, with structures built on layers and layers of black and pathways made of solid intangibility. The emptiness is your only companion, your only friend, for as you wander the alleys, searching for an eternity for light, it follows you, coiling around you like a snake, threatening to strangle you alive. Even as you feel others brush passed you, clipping the edge of your clothes, snagging at your skin as you cross paths, you are totally alone here for you cannot see them, you cannot hear them, you can't even...

Running

Eden's legs are flying, kicking out desperately beneath him, his muscles propelling him forward like those thin metal springs concealed beneath the cushioning of a mattress. His feet pulse against the ground, churning up layers of damp earth, his frictionless shoes slipping in the mud and across the dead leaves that obscure the forest floor. His chest aches. His lungs burn. His throat seethes. Breath rushes in and out of him like the violent tides of an ocean. His heart pummels savagely against his ribcage like a tiny bird fluttering frantically in its chains, struggling earnestly to escape. Sweat floods out from his every pore and lathers his skin like a river over stones, despite no heat being present in the night's frost-kissed breeze. 

The air tastes of pending rainfall, yet Eden doesn't dare fault in his steps, those harsh, heavy footfalls still reverberating throughout his skull, pounding against his brain and he is no longer sure if they still...

7 Cubed

Blue

How had it all deteriorated so suddenly? It felt as though it was only yesterday when his lilac irises used to capture every single hue that splayed out brilliantly before his urgent sight. Yet like all things, the colours as he had known them begun to wither and die, seeping out of the pages of life like faded grey ink. The only colour that remained after the desolation was blue, a churning, dark ocean of azure, flooding out across his vision like an overflowing sink. Everything was blue; the grass, the road, the mountains, the trees. Even his own face was covered in blue. Yet to him, it wasn't a colour at all; it was empty space, and everything was empty.

7 Cubed

Blue

How had it all deteriorated so suddenly? It felt as though it was only yesterday when his lilac irises used to capture every single hue that splayed out brilliantly before his urgent sight. Yet like all things, the colours as he had known them begun to wither and die, seeping out of the pages of life like fading grey ink. The only colour that remained after the desolation was blue, a churning, dark ocean of azure, flooding out across his vision like an overflowing sink. Everything was blue; the grass, the road, the mountains, the trees. Even his own face was covered in blue. Yet to him, it wasn't a colour at all; it was empty space, and everything was empty.

Countdown

A Fly on the Wall

Each day, we watch, like a fly on the wall.

Luminous colour streams pass us, constant, blinding, yet cold.

A buzz splits our eardrums, choking the peace.

Hate strikes from all flanks, dagger sharp.

It draws torrents of heart-blood.

We observe it gushing down.

It leaves gaping holes.

Feeding Hatred's bloodthirst.

We watch.

Bound.

Flash Fiction Competition 2016

Pain of Moonlight

Caidence gazed between the silken curtains and into the yawning ocean of stars.
Yearning snagged at his heart at the thought of her.
In the moonlight, he could almost see her, carved in the luminous glow, dark curls buffeting her cheeks, butterscotch eyes looming upon him with dazzling vibrance. 
It hurt even more to see those features each time his eyes grazed a mirror.
Why did she have to die? 
"Caidence, are you alright?"
Caidence flinched and turned to witness Brendan, his features soft in the silverness, his Aqua orbs bursting with worry. 
Caidence smiled, strained.
"Yeah, I'm fine..."

One Sentence Story

A Smile

She smiled - a proper smile, one that I hadn't seen in years - her hazel eyes ablaze with fresh passion as she interweaved her fingers with mine and wandered with me back along the ruthless path to our beginning, middle and now end.

Countdown

A Fly on the Wall

Each day, we watch, like a fly on the wall.

Luminous colour streams past us, constant, blinding, yet cold.

A buzz splits our eardrums, choking the peace.

Hate strikes from all flanks, dagger sharp.

It draws torrents of heart-blood.

We observe it gushing down.

It leaves gaping holes.

Feeding Hatred's bloodthirst.

We watch.

Bound.

M. Elyse Lynch's 12 Likes

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33 Likes from Others

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