Unchanging

I stand still in the midst of my surroundings. Inside I change, but outside I am as unchanging as the things that surround me. What does my difference on the inside mean when, by all accounts, my outside is endless and unchanging? Perhaps the outside shifts and morphs. But it is merely a rearranging of...

Failure

The bright midday light made him squint. He walked through the dry and silent forest and couldn’t hear a single leaf rustle. He must be far enough away from anyone by now, he thought. He stopped, closed his eyes and finally let the weight of all that he could not handle bear down on his...

Short Story: Why Am I Like This?

“Why do I dislike everyone I first meet? Why does it take me so long to trust somebody, if I ever trust at all? Why am I always looking for someone to betray me? Why I am always worried that I am going to lose the people I love or that they will leave me?...

Lucid

A soft breeze skimmed across the open field and brushed the man’s skin. Mosquitos and other insects took advantage of the isolated man standing alone in the middle of the field. He offered no reaction to the wind or the insects that now occupied much of his exposed skin. He was rigid and staring at...

The Boy and His Dog

The boy loved his dog. His dog’s name was Buddy, but this gave no true insight into the depth of their friendship.Whenever the boy was at school he wished he were with his buddy. He would be lost in his mind thinking about how, if he didn’t have school, he could spend so much more...

Short Story: Abolition

The breeze drifted through the silent night. The woman walked home as it past from behind her and carried on to the oaks that lined both sides of her street. The oaks touched high above, forming a giant tunnel, one which even streetlights found difficult to penetrate. Although the breeze disturbed the woman’s clothing, the...

We Are Nothing But Our Memories

Without memory a person cannot act like the person they consistently seem to be. Our actions are anchored in our past experiences that are in our memory. There is no I, no Sam, that is consistently carried from one moment to next or from childhood to adulthood. There is an idea of Sam that is based on the memories and...