Once upon a time there were 5 children. Each morn they were to imagine 5 things of the impossible. Sooner or later their options became limited and they realised that the impossibilities they had imagined were becoming rather ridiculous.
We were these children.
We dared to dream, fought to believe and lived to imagine. We challenge YOU to do the same.
I have three brothers and one sister. My brothers Dragon, Knight and Day and my sister is Flutter. I am Sprite. Our parents gave us 'normal' names, so to say, but we outgrew these names and found new ones to suit our personalities. D
Emotions decay in isotopal variation
Suspended in souls aetherial presence
Distilling, despair, passion, anger
Through electron-plasmic convocations
Titrated to logics base induction
(formulaic change of hysteria into sense)
Creating concords, equitable fluctuation
All from a nucleic base reaction
Once, there was a little bird. She was white and pure and sleek. She didn't quite fit in with the other birds. Her mind was a lot bigger, more open. So the other birds hated the little white bird.
When she took her first flight, every bird mocked her, maybe it was the way her wings flared, or the way her eyes darted about, they despised her. So she fell to the ground, hating the way her wings flared, and they way her eyes darted around. She stuck to the ground from then on, and never flew, not even at night.
When she had fallen, she fell on the dust covering
Uncle Levi and Auntie Gertrude and Katie didn’t miss Gramma. They didn’t even think about her until her Soul Fly Day came. Their flies were silver with big sparkly opal eyes, but Momma said the wood ones Grampa carved for us were just as good.
It was my first Soul Fly Day ever. Momma got me a new black dress and told me it was all right to cry. Katie’s dress had white ruffles and silver flies stitched into it. She pointed at my wood fly and called us poor.
There were so many people there was barely enough room for the shaman to get to Gramma. Everyone got real quiet so we could hear him say words I didn’t understand.
When people learn that I listen to rap by matrixwrath8, literature
Literature
When people learn that I listen to rap
“What?”
A mix of skeptical, bewildered, mildly impressed
And sometimes a little disgusted.
“You listen to rap?”
Behold, a specimen of middle-class suburbia
Spectacled, pimpled, messy-haired
Painfully awkward, unquestionably nerdy
Oh, and female, let’s not forget about that.
“Haydn and Beethoven; yup, that’s definitely your jam
During your late-night chemistry revision sessions
On your wild nights, maybe some Katy Perr – wait, what?
You listen to rap?”
Yes, I listen to rap
(Although I do still listen to Haydn
Toting Bach and Biggie together
Gets you strange looks from HMV cashiers, let me
My feet are soft on the tile floor, toes rolling over an extra couple of inches. My heart thunders in my chest, almost as alive as my hungry stomach.
You know, I think. These late night snack things are getting kind of annoying.
You sound very accusatory. Are you insinuating…
Of course she’s being accusatory! She always blames me for everything!
Come on! Hurry up!
I’m working on it, I think back furiously, and as quietly as I can I dash the last few feet to get to the pantry.
Immediately thousands of smells assault my nose, most of them wonderful, a few strange, and more than a few sickeni
6 ways on learning how to swim by A-Lovely-Anxiety, literature
Literature
6 ways on learning how to swim
1. toes first
when i was younger i thought i was
beautiful. not like the other girls, of course, but i thought that
the sun followed me around because it thought i was pretty.
and i am a shop-a-holic. money burns a hole in
the back pocket of my jeans because i love to spend it.
but i do not like to go shopping. i love the idea and hate the activity.
there are few days that trying on clothes brings me
happiness because there are even fewer days that i love my
body enough to look in a mirror.
but i am trying.
("i love this dress! i can't believe that it fit!
i dropped another size!"
"taylor."
"what, mom? why are you looking at me like t