jumping from her chair as she heard the grating sound of metal upon metal, angela reached the window of her cottage on the south downs in time to see a vision that had only appeared possible as a theory in her mind, not something to happen in real life. there was perhaps one #train a day this far out from civilization, two at the most but never running at even similar times. the collision between two, one obviously a passenger #train and the other a flaming mess of burning liquid, was something that she could not understand, believing her eyes or not. running through the door into the snow hanging limp in the air, she called out to her sister without even thinking that she had left for the weekend and could certainly not hear her from her hostel in amsterdam. angela pounded one step after another in the direction of the flames, #fire pouring high into the darkening sky. how could this have happened? there is not another cottage for #miles. by the time anyone else sees the #smoke or expects the #trains to arrive, it will be too late for the passengers.
so, in a #world before #smart, there was this #swan who gave birth and #completely didn’t #notice. in that same #world, there was a #duck, curiously enough, giving birth in the same lake at the same time. can you #imagine the noise that was to be heard that morning with the honking and quacking and the father birds trying desperately not to get seen edging away in search of television sets and motoring magazines? i assure you, there were feathers to be seen flying and water churned to near boiling #point. that being said, six ##ducklings and seven #signets entered the #world that day, almost as wet and sticky as the day they were conceived. this, of course, being a #world before #smart, is a #world without counting. we shall ignore those numbers in exactly the same manner as their mothers.
They tell me that war changes men, makes them wild. That’s only the weak ones, though. He was sad when it was unavoidable, happy when it was ended. A lifetime of harsh realities, defeated by laughter. Memories depart quickly but I always feel at home there. Continue Reading…
#Timewrite prompts are to be written as ten-minute exercises as either two half-page prompts or one full-page prompt to stimulate longer writing and #free your writing from the constraints of #structure and #dogma. Continue Reading…
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digital rebirth of the artist.
the camera inside.
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from tool to artist.
The Camera Inside.
Analysis of Falling and Seeing the Air
An analysis of two partial short story collections by the author.
hearing through new eyes.
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image as humanity’s defining language.
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meaning as use(less)?