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Archive for April, 2013

Poetry Jars

Signal
The following Images were produced to accompany a short story called The Signal of the Second Spring. You can read the full story HERE or click on the images to view them all.

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Poetry Jars

I’ve managed to put the shelves up so I can stack the Jars of Poetry. Be careful reaching up for the top shelf though. You may need a ladder.

Poetry Jars.


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Rolling Cage.

Come wallow thee in the misery of this cage of woe, for tonight I drink the Russian Malady. Tomorrow’s Sun will cast a shadow on the clarity of sadness and raise the ghost of literary regret.
cage of woe

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Mind your Head

Flash project: write 200 word story on the theme of “Mind your Head.”

keep out

In the backwater, plastic walls of laboratory 39 we tried everything to increase the activity in their brains. Aldus, with his brow permanently furrowed peered at the results of countless trials. Magda shuffled up and down, drinking while she poured over data from each permutation of the experiment. Indigo only now admitted that his initial excitement was beginning to wane. He had been convinced these were the creatures identified by the ancients. They were nothing to look upon, but a perfect match for the drawings on the steel temple.

Each attempt started with such promise and yet always produced another dead end. The subjects would show improvements; responding to visual stimulus and spoken instruction. They would develop complex communication amongst themselves. The first time I saw one teaching another to make a cutting tool, I nearly cried. Always they would start to form groups. Always they would destroy each other. Soon we would lose our window of opportunity. We had come so far to find them; across the vast emptiness between our worlds. The steel temple they sent had shown the way and we had followed, only to find their deserts of destruction; the last fruits of their mindless savagery.


The Quick and the Dead.

Supernova1987

thatcher

Artist Kaya Mar walking with painting in Westminster.

Once two Coptic monks sat in the desert.
One said to the other, “In order to understand others better, we should understand why they argue.”
The other said, “Perhaps we should have an argument.”
“I agree.” said the First.
“That is my rock.” said the Second pointing to a rock at their feet.
“Ok. You can have it.” Said the First.
“But I don’t want it.” Said the Second.
“Ok. I will have it.” Said the First.
“But it is mine.” Said the Second.
“Ok. Let us leave it where it is.” Said the First.
After a silence, the two Monks returned to their monastery, still unable to understand why people argue with each other.

Only the living can argue. The dead are as satisfied as they will ever be.

 
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And all my Life would be Thirst and Longing for What I had Lost before I found It.

sargasso

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Nothing is with thee.

Nothing is with Thee

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Placid Island

lovecraft

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The Quick and the Dead.

thatcher

Artist Kaya Mar walking with painting in Westminster.

 
See more Short Stories by Supernova1987 at:
Short Stories