Because I haven’t.

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“How do you know if you never felt the wind on your face?”

He paused. “Well, how do you know?” He slumped down, shoulders caving.

“Your patronizing me!” The voice shouted, shaking out an apology shortly after.

He looked at its eyes. Seeing the worry. The hesitation. The infinite ‘what ifs’ scratching at the back of its eye lids. Leaving them red and sore, with deep lines of pain.

He drew a deep breath. “Thats the point. I.. I never felt the wind on my face. The rush of anxiety of approaching a dream that used to seem impossible. A dream of where you told people and they chuckled out a reply. I need this.” He said, standing. “I want to fly. And it’s because I never felt the wind on my face.”

Written by A. Writes

Moon’s Shrill

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I heard him outside of my window again. His sounds a low mixture of growls and deep rumbles. It made something stir in me. Something full of unevenness that had me tip toeing across the flat carpet and over the chilled stone to the neighbouring land. And there he sat. On the very edge. Edge of the moon’s shrill – edge of being too close for my comfort. On the edge of me wanting to see him. His silver and gold streaked fur. Two perfect to be something that hunted, stole and roamed free in the night.

But just perfect enough.

Written by A. Writes

A little bit of R & C

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“Simple.” She said. “I want to move simple.”

He nodded. “Simple and cheap.” He replied.

She nodded. Looking down at her hands. Hands that have seen the very best – the very worst of people. “Price doesn’t have any weight here. Just simple.”

“Only the necessities, then?”

“Yes, only the necessities… my rum and cigarets.”

Written by Alecia Writes

Anti Social WriMo 2014

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I’m just going to get it all out.  I didn’t win NaNoWriMo this year. And I am okay with it. A little disappointed and embarrassed – but that just comes with the territory.Why might you ask? Because. Ha! Just kidding, I can give you a bit more of an answer. I got a job! Drum roll please…. at a bookstore! Whilst my writing has been put onto hold for a tad longer then I would have liked; I learned and continue to learn the new ropes of my job. And with my new job I continue to be amazed and inspired from all the lovely novels, neatly waiting to be picked up by someone and live. BUT then I realized that a really big part of being successful in NaNoWriMo is your surroundings. The people, the support – the atmosphere. As if writing a novel in thirty-day wasn’t enough, those who are avidly participating get propelled into success. Just some thoughts. So, if you are planning to do NaNoWriMo next year, don’t be anti social. Visit the NaNoWriMo forums, tweet up a storm and maybe make a new writing buddy or two!

Cheers! Happy December!

Alecia 

 

Rattle. Clink.

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Rattle Clink. It amazes me how softly storms crawl over my little valley. Clinging to the free air and pulling themselves up and over the distant mountains.

The sun has blinked – and your bones have clattered.

Your lungs are fresh. Your stones are clattered.

It amazes me how softly storms crawl over my little valley. Clawing at our scape like an old finale.

Waiting. Blustering. Sending me clattering.

Written by Alecia Writes.

Half the Price, Half the Rights

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“That will be 100 cubes, sir.” The man said. Sliding up the very scratched, glass window.

“I thought it was half price. That’s what you were advertising, Toll Man.” He replied, agitated. Starting to dig around in his cloth pockets. Looking for a piece of metal that had the ad printed on.

“It was… before I got to look at you. Which is an insult in case you are confused. A lot more effort and time – equals more cubes. Which then means if you don’t have the currency – you need to leave and let the next living body through. We do not accept the undead through the holiday season.”

He looked around. People behind him were grinning with long jaws. Shaking uncontrollably, sending their limbs clutching to the air – unsound and sobbing. Between the deep inhale of breaths, snorting noses and a bad speaker system, he just wanted to get out of there. “Right.” He responded, pulling out a small rectangular box and started to count them. Only to realize that was all that he had, so he just handed the box to the Toll Man. Who took it carelessly. Running is long fingers across his new payment. 

Written by Alecia Writes

The Red Moon.

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The air was chilled and threaten snow. But that didn’t stop them. Barefoot and shivering, they carefully balanced on the fallen tree. Stepping over the protruding branches that poked out like little lollipops. The texture a mixture of a sandy beach that often visited their dreams, and the hard stones that made up their nightmares. It was late and dark enough to know that they should be heading home. The red moon, breathing out a path. Exhaling once more, sending the golden leafs twinkling above.

Written by Alecia Writes

Done and done.

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“If you could cover anything in chocolate what would it be?” She asked, nibbling a chocolate covered pretzel. It was the second to last one in her little baggy.

“That’s such a girl question.” He laughed, taking the last one. Leaving the bag empty.

“So you don’t mind.” She teased, slightly annoyed.

He shook his head, “Stupid thing to say…”

She just nodded. Her bangs falling back into her face, making her contemplate cutting them off right there and then. To bad she didn’t have a pair of scissors. It’s been almost eight months since her last haircut.

“Grape fruit.” He paused. “The best of both worlds. Fruit – chocolate. Done and done.”

Written by Alecia Writes

Pace

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He paced back and forth. Back and forth. Almost as circular as the spinning leafs from the wind. They spun and spun. Lifting only slightly off the cracked pavement. It was warm outside but somehow the breeze managed to cling to his ribcage. Sending shivers across his body. He’d make quick glances to the hospital across the street. The sides light and looming. Written by Alecia Writes. 

Assemble

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Cecile waited at the railroad crossing. Her small duffel bag slung over her right shoulder and a half-full canteen hanging off her left. She didn’t know what she was doing there. It wasn’t as if she was waiting for a train to take her somewhere new. She was hesitant – and promised herself every hour before dusk that this would be her chance.

Written by Alecia Writes. 

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