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Literature Text
It was a dark and stormy night.
The Earth cradled itself in blankets of black clouds, awaiting its end.
Literature
Unknowable
Unknowable
The darkness pressed against my corneas, diffusing across the transparent boundary into the aqueous humour, as if it were a solid object forcing its way to my retinas, obscuring my vision. The distant creaks of the old house lent a menacing atmosphere to the blackness permeating the almost silent rooms, the almost footsteps complementing the almost-forms of the dark.
As the sleep fell away from me, the looming tenebrosity receded and the house took on a less perturbing aspect. The creaks were just creaks, the shadows in the corners of the room were just the places that the dim light from the power extension cable near the bed did
Literature
October short story
It was staring at me, from the window. Its eyes never wavering from meeting mine. Its mouth was just a wide jagged line of sharp teeth frozen into a lip-less smile. Its long claws curved and filthy with something awful. There was something staining the window, the street light outside illuminating chunks and making the dripping lines glow. The creature was unmoving from its spot.
The terrifying part is that it’s on the inside of the window.
Literature
Story
"Story"
Can you tell me the story?
I know it doesn't have a beginning
and you never mentioned an end
but I can't really believe
that there
ever was a playful middle
when the other two ends of that
long and heavy rope
could have been pulled taut.
I mean, really
the smell of foreign food
wafts through the window every night
how can you expect me to sleep
when there is that exotic tang
right in front of
my nose
just far enough where you pull me by a string
and I can step into a world where
everything is not the same.
Second person stories are not the same
you've got to be there
to feel there
to live there
to know there
you've got to smell t
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