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versailles6

Magnanimous Eyeballs Fuzz Daisy
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Literature

The Plot

She said “don’t die”. She said, “Don’t get picked up by random cars-with-the-top-down-or-hanging-out-the-window boys, don’t talk to hitchhikers, ride your bike, don’t wear your hair up it’s easier for them to grab, you know, don’t make yourself a target, don’t be a chalk outline.” She never told me things like that before, in Suburbia, where the worst that could happen was your heavy-duty full-lawn sprinkler system powering up a bit too early. We didn’t say those things back home, but she was sure to remind me when I walked out the door, down the sidewalk, got in the car,

All

63 deviations
Literature

The Plot

She said “don’t die”. She said, “Don’t get picked up by random cars-with-the-top-down-or-hanging-out-the-window boys, don’t talk to hitchhikers, ride your bike, don’t wear your hair up it’s easier for them to grab, you know, don’t make yourself a target, don’t be a chalk outline.” She never told me things like that before, in Suburbia, where the worst that could happen was your heavy-duty full-lawn sprinkler system powering up a bit too early. We didn’t say those things back home, but she was sure to remind me when I walked out the door, down the sidewalk, got in the car,

Featured

28 deviations
Literature

2011 Chapter One

 My friend Kris was hell bent on going out his way. He didn't care if it was alcohol or smoking or jumping off the Flannery bridge. He said if push came to shove, he'd invest in a .41 Smith and Wesson Magnum and be classy about it, at least. Rather that than the zombies. Or the aliens. Or the war machine. We'd more or less established that it wasn't any of those things. I don't know exactly what it was-- I was a register jockey, not a rocket scientist-- but it was this or that sort of natural-esque cause. In layman's terms, Earth was just pissed at us. If I had to deal with seven billion humans crawling in my every pore I'd be ready to self-d

2011

14 deviations
Literature

Carnival 2.2

 Mr. Chartres in stateroom 1-7 was a young man already on the downswing of his career. By the charming age of only 26, he had managed to shun himself from the literary world, estrange himself from society, and get himself disowned by his once-loving family. He had, at one time, held a very reputable position at Charles and Charles Publishing, but even his highfalutin connections could not save him when his novels became a soapbox for his mind-numbing folktale research and hair-brained calculations. No one wanted to employee, or publish, a man who had lost all his wits on his half-baked monster hunts. And so, the poor potential lost all of his

Carnival

4 deviations
Literature

Persephone

I knew I was going to steal him. Yes I saw it in my mind. That feeling.   unshakeable feeling. He walked. Talked. Smiled. To them. The ones  to them He wasn't their whore. He wasn't theirs to see, smell, taste, to see, smell, taste, touch, taste, see, touch, smell, taste, touch, see, taste, touch, smell, taste, see, touch, see, touch, taste, see, smell, taste  He was not theirs. I would take stop his prostitution.     What belonged to me. Take. I would take him. Where was the beginning? Here. There. Beginning? Or end?  It's the same. He was whored.     He was Misused.           Mishandled. He was a whore to them

Persephone

21 deviations
Literature

The Last Beginning

This is the beginning. So, naturally, I’m going to start at the end. I told him, “I want to build a fucking family with you”. He laughed. Fuck, he laughed. I love when he laughs. I love when he breathes, and the air that he breathes, and the dirt beneath his feet, and the way his forehead wrinkles when he frowns and he smirks, and the dopey way he adds “huh” to the ends of his sentences when he’s not paying attention. I love when he doesn’t pay attention. The simple way to put it is: I love everything about him. So I said, “I want to build a fucking family with you”. And he laughed. &ldq

Short Stories

2 deviations
Literature

When you can't Sleep

When you can’t sleep. Long nights. Longer. Darker. Questions. Who’s to blame? Who’s at fault? My fault. My fault. It’s always my fault. Car crashes, rainstorms, bloodsucking demons and your god and The Devil, all my fault. I think, “Why didn’t I say that? Or do that? Or if it had been done differently, that way…” The right way. If I would have been less arrogant, get my head out from all the nasty places on Earth I stuck it, which I see now, yes, it was selfish, yes, it was the drama, the diva--- Why?! do I have to be so fucking cinematic, fucking horrorshow. Long pauses repeats ellipses loo

Vignettes

4 deviations
Literature

The Flirt

 "I'll have a Mojito." "A what?" "A Mojito? You know, dancing-on-the-beach-footsie-in-the-Jacuzzi-slice-of-lime-and-curly-straw-on-the-side Mojito?" "Uh…" The bartender looked thoroughly confused. "Mo-ji-to!" Niha shouted, slapping the countertop and adding an irritable click of his tongue to signify his utter disapproval. "Gawd, doesn't anyone in this city know how to mix a decent drink?" He watched as the scruffy bartender shuffled off to wait on other less demanding drunks. He had a feeling he would not be receiving his drink. No matter. Niha had drank his fair share on his way to the bar. A bit of pre-game warm-up, if you

Scraps

1 deviation