Arjen Hulstra
Bio
Just trying to maintain creativity. And to be inspired.
Stories (6/0)
Trusses
The lights were still on, while some flickered and buzzed, they all reflected off the the locket he almost always held onto while worried. These days, that was most of the time. he hadn’t actually encountered any danger, really, but had always knew it was there. He caught glimpses of it, like a tree shadow moving gently in the breeze caught on the fringes of his sight. It was always there, hanging heavily on the air, he could taste it when he breathed, but was something he couldn’t get accustomed to.
By Arjen Hulstra3 years ago in Fiction
Me in Abyss
I look at myself at times, but those time are as rare as they are uncomfortable. The sight in the mirror is not a frightening reflection, representing some skewed and obsessive view that I have of myself. Rather, it is simply uncomfortable for me to make eye contact with, well, me. I am not uncomfortable with eye contact, far be it actually, nor am I uncomfortable with the way I look. It is something else entirely.
By Arjen Hulstra3 years ago in Confessions
Promising
The serenity in front of me was like an illusion, for I knew what lay behind. The waste and the death and the destruction. The inhumanity of it was astounding, and it not only possessed those who have avoided the final judgement, but infected many. The bizarre reflection of stories told prolifically in comics, books and movies in the years from my childhood, even before, till the event.
By Arjen Hulstra3 years ago in Horror
All Thats Left
It was a cold but beautiful day outside, as I went to the park closet to workfor lunch, that I liked to do on days like this. It was a small park that offered a few benches to sit, but was rarely used, like some hidden oasis in the desert that is the city. There was one bench I liked that faced the small pond that was half encircled by various trees, which lend to the feeling of peace within the park. It was a late lunch, and the sun hung lower than the trees this day, casting golden streamers through the branches. The gleaming bands of sunlight hit the water and exploded into countless tiny, gilded sparks that danced across the slightly moving waters surface.
By Arjen Hulstra3 years ago in Humans