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| Literature / Prose / Non-Fiction / Biography & Memoir / Stories & Vignettes | ©2010-2012 `Halatia |
A Talking To It begins with one rock—A Talking To by `Halatia
a sloughed sediment that
has had enough of that bitch Gravity's pull
and decides it is time to go Down and talk
with Her face-to-face.
It shifts from noun to verb and
rolls to the edge to get a good look at what it's facing.
She is invisible, hiding somewhere among
the treeline pines or the caldera lake that glints like compressed coal.
No matter, it thinks. Her allure is like iron ore, coaxing and strong and unavoidable.
It tilts over the precipice and drops, slipping and striking along
the slope perpendicular to Her call with care enough to send
sparks up with each impact. At the sigh
In the Heat of the Moment Stagnant summer air seeped in through the sliding screen door that led off to the patio. There was no breeze to serve as relief, as per usual for a mid-August evening in this small Midwestern town. It wouldn't have been so intolerable if the air conditioner hadn't busted. Sometime during the afternoon, the clanking machine had shuttered still, bringing a silence that baked.In the Heat of the Moment by `Halatia
The high temperature caused the evening meal to not be as enjoyable as usual. Rear-ends stuck sickly to the hardwood of the chairs, making squelching noises with every movement. Little feet dangled above the floor next to the adult legs that were flushed with heat. My dar
Desperate Measures At two o'clock there is a shift change. The second assistant manager comes in to liberate the relief night assistant from the hell that is Saturday at our gas station that sat just off the busiest interstate exit in the whole city.Desperate Measures by `Halatia
I don't get to leave. I would kill someone if it meant I could leave.
Contempt is an accurate word to describe my mood this cold afternoon. Homicidal is another. It's the high gas prices, it's the disgruntled people bleeding from that nearly-Christmas financial wound, it's the lottery. Every person through the door.
There is always a warning posted on the back wall of the check stand near the holidays. "Desperat
The Details Her hair:The Details by `Halatia
cropped short and brilliantly fair everywhere
but the roots. There, fragments of dull dilute her,
whiskey thinned by water.
Her clothes:
lack the sheen of new and the wear of old,
that in between that makes her blend, that make her
indistinguishable unless properly apprehended.
Her gait:
Left-right, left-right, left-right, left behind
her group that rushes out, drunk on undefined
fates and the sort of drinks that make you forget that this is not
the sedate part of town.
And he wonders what it is like
just to breathe.
Into Smoke Light brings the darkness, a flash so brightInto Smoke by `Halatia
the whole house sears in white-purple motion:
the cat streaking for cover, the clock notioning out of time,
an earthquake worth of thunder rumbling through the ground.
Front to fronts, the cold sinks in through the North windows
pulling the last candle flames into taut slivers that shiver a story:
When the age of fire sputters,
when bulbs are shuttered and wires fray, we will lay
in silence, wrapped in the cold of ice-aged dreams.
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Deviousness `TimberClipse's dedication to our community is without question. From developing helpful tutorials, to being a community leader in groups such as #fella and #deviant365, you can always find Zev connecting with all areas of our community in order to spread his infectious enthusiasm and inspiring positivity. We are delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2012 to `TimberClipse, congratulations! Read More
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Sta.sh
Wow. Just, wow.
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follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness - allen ginsberg
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YOU'RE FUNFABULOUS. I LUV YOU AND YOU'RE THE BEST WRITER EVER AND IF YOU WERE A HOSTAGE, I'D TOTALLY SERIOUSLY CONSIDER TRADING MY CAT FOR YOU. ~ `nycterent
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follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness - allen ginsberg
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"Remind me to discuss the necessity for reviving the word piffle." -E.B. White.
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Today’s Quote:
"Porn is for people with no imaginations..." - me
So, basically my story is similar to yours, only with my uncle in the place of your grandfather. Before he died (of cancer even) he didn't do something very important, which in the end almost broke our family apart. Since then people made it a point to tell me the ugliest things about him, his failures, his misdeeds, everything. It completely destroyed the image I had of him since earliest childhood.
This part of my past still haunts me, even after seven years have gone by. It is also unlikely that I'll have that moment of finding something redeeming (like you found the picture) since my family, in their anger and disappointment, annihilated almost everything.
So, with this in mind, it is no wonder that, halfway through your story, I burst into tears upon reading how the family secret affected you - but I cried even more at the end. And here's my point: I'm absolutely and overwhelmingly happy that your story did take this turn. What you describe about your grandfather really portraits him as the good man he surely was. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. When I'm going to log out any minute now, I won't be doing it in a troubled, sad mood. It felt good being able to share a part of my story here, too. Only very seldomly the context is appropriate to do so. The resolution of your story was like a weight was lifted off my chest. Again, thank you so much.
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(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
127% of DeviantART users have random percentages in their signature. If you're one of the √-4π% who don't, create a paradox by putting this in your signature.
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You'll thank me later. Either that, or you'll beat me with a flaming stick, but I prefer to be optimistic.
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"Maybe you don't need the whole world to love you. Maybe you just need one person."