074ff96803e0ba9f462f282df2a68f50

AbiJoy

United States

That's a pangolin, in case you were wondering. :) I really love stories and I need them to survive, bring me your stories and I'll bring you mine. I guess you could say what I'm looking for is a friend, even if that friend is fictional. Thanks!

Message from Writer

https://abrieljoy.wordpress.com

Published Work

Sijo

Soggy

Sounds Fishy
Crawdads in a cage look like lobsters at a business meeting
Productivity is up and the employment rate is down
The hillbilly cousins of immortal crustaceans work hard

Two Timer
A pirate with an eyepatch over each eye can see the dark
The two wooden legs and hooked hands strike fear into other ships
He's a little less than human, this old fashioned cyborg

History Alive

Rah-Rah

Rasputin:
I think it’s time we pray.

Maria:
But we do that every day! I just want to go outside with friends and play!

R: What do you think the lord wants you to do? With a family in disgrace, I can’t stage my royal coup!

M: You do always think ahead...

R: Of course, my darling daughter. If I didn’t chase the throne, I wouldn’t be a father.
(to himself)
-Some say that I’m a hedon, a satanist, and worse! But really, all I want is to put myself first!-

M: I mean, I guess, I don’t mind the money…

R: (startled out of his trance) Oh, um? good,
Why don’t you go read some scripture honey.
(aside)
That boy, Alexei...
I know he’s the key.
(mocking high-pitch)
“Of course your majesty, Tsarina! I can heal your son for free!”
If they think I am holy- well- there’s no way to know for sure- but I think even old...

Love in Words

Hun

    A blast from a water gun to the face or the back of the knees. I remember water day at school when the firemen came and unleashed the partial force of their hoses on the sky and unto us. I remember like it was yesterday, the grass and dust clinging to the backs of my calves with a freshness and life you can't shake. You're probably thinking I have always over-romanticized the past. You are correct. I miss you.
    Do you still sell those pencils? The smencils in the tubes that break when you try to use them as anything other than potpourri? Do you sell popcorn and pickles because the government and the school boards are corrupt? I knew that even back then. I stomped the biggest black widow I'd ever seen for you in the middle of the cafeteria and you said thanks. Remember when you accepted a gift card (I found it in a cereal...

Invisible Cities

Given, Arizona

When writing a geometric proof, the number one reason is always "given".
Welcome to Given, Arizona.
Tour guide:
In the wise words of Dr. Doofenshmirtz, "not everything is a metaphor!" Keep that in mind, ladies and gents, as your eyes sweep across our lovely desert landscape. Be careful not to disturb the sleeping stones. They have sat in these exact spots, (their own assigned seats!) for millennia. Have absorbed every sound wave, every whispered word, and some believe, the newborn cries of the universe. There’s no telling what they’d do if we moved them now.
/He pauses, listening, as if a tourist has spoken. None have./
What’s that? Oh, no, you won’t have to worry about rattlesnakes out here.
Tourist A: /Speaking to camera man. Out by the port-o-potties near the bus stop/
Well the very first thing I noticed about this place was this awful heat. I mean excuse me if I’m being rude, but this town seems like...

Strike

​Semi-permeable

Welcome to the last barrier, high school, smack-dab in the middle between youth and the real world... good luck. On the first day of school we have a lockdown drill; we don’t even know our class schedules yet, but we need to know which corner of the room is best hidden from the man with the gun. The membrane between one section of life and the next is semi-permeable, (I learned that in Biology class) but instead of proteins, it’s bullets that can rupture through. My friend fell asleep during that drill- probably because she has to wake up at five in the morning to be ready for school on time- but I was so angry, just not with her. Our country falls asleep to the sound of gunfire and yes, I know we are exhausted, but God, pay attention, evil grows best when left unchecked.

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

Aluminium Foil

A thousand tiny pores 
and a thousand mountainscapes of wrinkles,
This skin is unlike that of anyone living.
Created to seal the average meal
in a holographic futuristic coating,
Who would've looked to the minerals of Earth
to find the beauty of the heavens 
wrapping a day-old ham sandwich.
Only humanity could create something this vain.

Your World in Three Senses

Juice Isn't A Thing Here

Touch:
It is so humid that nothing can enter your skin. The cracks that usually let in the sunlight, sound waves, the cold or the dust are clogged up with water and barricaded from the outside world. What's outside stays out, what's inside stays in. It feels like you are stewing inside yourself but there are no holes you can make to let the universe pass through you again.

Sound:
There are so many layers of sound, (which you are used to) but all of them are unfamiliar. You want nothing more than to sit still for a couple millennia and become accustomed- but this is not possible for two reasons.

  1. They don't want you to hear everything. Why else would they talk in code? There are certain inflections you add to your conversations, your music, your vehicles, and your footsteps if you want to become a part of The Hum.
  2. Movement is the currency of the realm, you could...

Your World in Three Senses

Juice Isn't A Thing Here

Touch:
It is so humid that nothing can enter your skin. The cracks that usually let in the sunlight, sound waves, the cold or the dust are clogged up with water and barricaded from the outside world. What's outside stays out, what's inside stays in. It feels like you are stewing inside yourself but there are no holes you can make to let the universe pass through you again.

Sound:
There are so many layers of sound, (which you are used to) but all of them are unfamiliar. You want nothing more than to sit still for a couple millennia and become accustomed- but this is not possible for two reasons.

  1. They don't want you to hear everything. Why else would they talk in code? There are certain inflections you add to your conversations, your music, your vehicles, and your footsteps if you want to become a part of The Hum.
  2. Movement is the currency of the realm, you could...

Everyday Magic

Scarecrow

The man leans against the windowless concrete warehouse, the dark wrinkles under his eyes more visible than the yellowed whites under his ratty baseball cap. He smokes a cigarette. I see him everyday as I walk home from school. He hums softly, but it isn't a tune, it's a friendly warning, like a rattlesnake shaking its tail before it strikes.
I used to wave to him. I don't wave to anyone anymore. I almost feel grateful to this man, he taught me how to act in this city without ever saying a word.
His stretched-out orange tank top reads, "Kansas State".
We made eye contact for the first time on January 6th, 2011. He asked for my help.
His voice was higher than I thought it would be, a big muscular guy like him, but raspy at the same time like air couldn't quite make his words forceful, "Please," he said through yellowed teeth.
There was something in...

Santa Ysabel Morning Announcements

Coming to you live from the howling void of outer space, it's me, Xander! Your friendly neighborhood astronaut, here to list for you all the problems I didn't tell Houston.
The stars are looking stunning today as usual folks, and if you missed the early morning passby, there was a large comet that looked to be made of ice or diamond. No life seemed to inhabit that little hunk of beauty, but it'll be coming back around by midday if you want another look, or so says our team of random comet specialists.
No word yet from Earth as to whether or not our clocks are accurate, sorry guys. Although it seems to me that time doesn't really matter up here anyway, so, it's no biggie. Why not measure things in events instead? Arbitrary words like second or minute would probably just slow us down. Want to know how long your lunch break can be? 42 itches! An hour makes...

The World Anew

The Trade

    Countertops used to be unreachable. Smiling faces in aprons akin to giants atop beanstalks in the clouds. Glass dividers seemed cruel before I realized they might be hygienic. The doorknobs on tall cabinets were combination locks I could never crack. In that lofty safe were mysteries, amongst the greatest treasure of all, snacks. I used to climb because I cared to see what was up there. I used to want to explore the attic.
    Listen, I love knowing things. I always have. I fear the unknown on occasion, but mostly I feel nostalgia. What if I had learned what I suspected all along? 
    Reality is far from boring, but the wonder I felt is now the thing out of my reach, not the countertops. Maybe it wasn't that great of a trade.
    

Open Prompt

Quotes From My Sister This Week

Ani: "I'm not entirely sure my math teacher exists"

Me: "I'm hungry"
Ani: in a very judgemental tone,"That's ridiculous"
Me: 
Me: mY hUngER?
Ani: Smiling "Yes."

Ani: "Judah's mood affects our family second most."

Ani: "That's the ABulet"

Ani: laughing at a dumb joke I made, "I always hear you, I sometimes wish I didn't, but I hear you"

Ani: "Gotta love Snow White and the Seven Deadly Sins"

Ani: "Terry Cruz's crew's reviews"

Ani: "Life is just nature's way of keeping meat fresh"

Science Fiction Competition 2018

The Sacred Techs

    Leaning over the kitchen counter and my bowl of lucky charms, I asked my mother's back the question that haunts me to this day.
    "Can you be blessed by a robot?"
    Her reply was quicker than I expected, but she was a woman of great faith, "Yes, but it doesn't count."
    My mother's long gone now, her final rites done by a genuine flesh-and-blood priest. I wonder sometimes what she would think of my job. Would she be proud that I chose a life working for the church? 
    After mom died, the catholic church was shaken by scandals. The clergy were not as holy as people needed them to be, that much was clear. We lost a lot of members. The church needed a reformation, and my friend Ama seemed willing enough to start one. 
    She had always been the tech wizard, at home among the wires and glass. Her happiness seemed real to...

The Gap

“Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”
Where does the voice come from? There are no wires, no speakers, no men with megaphones. There’s only me and the people like me. The travellers with flickering eyelids and itchy necks. Shaking in silence and wincing at the shrieks of the wheels. Not because the screams are unsettling, because someone might be watching us and we don’t want to look detached. Leaning. Should I offer my seat? Will they think I’m calling them old?
“Please mind the gap between the train and the platform.”
Who puts the ads up in here? I can smell smoke exhaust and wet metal coins. Maybe it’s the man who warns us all of the dangerous and legendary gap. Maybe it’s the one who drives the train. They’d know better than us we suppose. I might need Loaf furniture or roll-on headache medicine (in a tube!) or a 35£ BooHooMan jacket with armpit fringe....

Subtotals

I hate numbers until they have a story

  • Times I thought I hated math: 4.
  • Irrational things that I fear: 2.
  • Siblings I have: 6. Sets of twins: 2.
  • Crushes: 0. Pretend crushes I made to fit in: 3.
  • My loves: 318. My favorites: 226
  • Fables written: 1
  • Books writing: 1
  • Times I pointlessly worried for the future: 84
  • Times I stubbed my pinky toe: 100
  • Seconds of life so far: 486502609
  • People I am holding a grudge against: 5
  • Times I've been alone: 0
  • Times I've felt alone: 113
  • Mad whirlwinds of inspiration survived: 3
  • Times being an overemotional mess: 697
  • Years spent in school: 11
  • Years of productivity: 7
  • Mountains climbed: 6
  • Times I've picked up crap I definitely don't need because I was "enchanted by it's aesthetic": 540
  • Debates won: 7
  • Debates lost: 12

Paint Swatch

Essence of Translucence

   Opposing opaque, stands a color I like to call my own. The color of truth, but also, a chameleon, an actor. Think, crystal chandelier submerged in tears. Refracting light instead of obscuring it. When I tell people my favorite color is clear, they become frustrated. 
"Clear is just the color of whatever's behind it."
   True, but  the purpose of translucnce, the essence of it, is to show us the beauty behind. Nobody places a window without a view, or at least a little light.
   Think, seeing veins through too pale skin. A shiver.
   Think, an ice sculpture, glistening and dripping in the sun, through the other side you see the bride and groom kiss. Bells chime. Clearly, they were meant for each other.
   Think, peering into the freshwater creek searching for crawdads to imprison in your empty water bottle. Watch their little legs scurry along through the sediment, watch the moss and algae, whole worlds, sway in the...

Improbable Flavor

Embarrassment

Sour and slowly building to a climax 
Like coarse sea salt
on a lemon
You flinch away
but it's too late
the taste refuses to be ignored
or back down
you must endure it
until it fades
Slow at first
until your mouth forgets
and all that's left
is the bland bitterness
of some forgotten shame.

 

25 Words

Elementary

Xander and I were the detectives, we kept this town safe. Nobody asked us to, but we knew what they meant. Gotta love middle school.

Child Narrator

Bad Kid

Walking home from elementary school after a long school day of third grade business, I was ready to be home and retreat into my little introvert shell. I probably hadn’t said a word all day besides answering questions in class. Nonetheless, I was exhausted. My little sister Ani, far less concerned with what others thought of her, walked at my side. A fifth grader, and I was terrified of fifth graders, shouted at us from a nearby tree. We knew her, we had laughed when she had yelled at us before for “ruining mother nature” when we drew with chalk on the sidewalk or dripped water droplets to make a trail. She called my sister an ‘ogre’ and I was not about to stand for that.
I was angry, she had hurt my pride and I had done nothing to deserve it. I knew that I had to do something because nobody else would. Also I thought it was the...

Child of the Earth

Once there lived a young and curious Teddy Bear Cholla named Clay. He loved living in the Sonoran Desert and was content with his life, especially when it was monsoon season. One day a cactus wren perched on his arm and demanded of him, "When will you become?". Clay was confused with the bird's question, "Aren't I already?" he asked, chuckling with his clever answer to a question that made no sense. Annoyed, the wren rephrased her inquiry, "At what time do you plan on beginning to be?" Clay said nothing, he felt almost embarrassed. The wren left. The sunset that night was beautiful. The morning brought no chance of rain. Beginning to be, beginning to be, beginning to... The words kept running through Clay's mind, creating a rhythm to the desert. He knew who he was, at least. He was a child of the earth, his mother had taught him to stand up and branch out, taught him...