Bryan Chimney
Stories (6/0)
Blue Haiku
Aqua rushing free Euphoric blue rhapsody Taking life from me
By Bryan Chimneyabout a year ago in Poets
Little Black Box
Transfixed on the gold liquor swirling around in his glass that presently had his undivided attention, a heavy sigh escaped his chest only to blend with the ethers of the bar. This was his second scotch and if he planned on hearing Jason continue to stroke his own ego, he’d need a 3rd, maybe a 4th. Since his goal was to NOT get inebriated tonight, he would need to finish what was left of his drink and began to make his apologies as he made his exit.
By Bryan Chimneyabout a year ago in Fiction
Section X
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. If anyone could hear anything I was doing right now, it would be a gift. My eyelids keep drifting shut as the blood running down the side of my face begins to slow. I think I have a concussion. I wasn’t this sleepy until I was wacked from behind. My Del4 Comm which lets me communicate with people who have the same model, wherever they might be, is missing. More likely that whoever bashed my head against the wall took it, which sucks. It’s the only way that I can reach my parents or anyone else on NorthStarDelta, a space station that floats about few million miles from Mars.
By Bryan Chimney2 years ago in Futurism
Road Dog
Picture it. Me. Third Grade. My teacher Mrs. Walton stands in front of the class gliding her hand across a map of the United States. At that age, you really don’t have the scope of the world abroad because your view is still limited. It’s not until that view is questioned that you start to really think about it. We’re shaped by our experiences and at this point I hadn’t had many. She asked….
By Bryan Chimney2 years ago in Families
The Bull
Claudia’s nails tapped rhythmically on the table as Simon droned on about his favorite thing in the world: Himself. Simon is our boss or as we like to call him, the Bull. If it’s not about Simon or what Simon wants, then it’s irrelevant. Every morning we have these 45-minute meetings to hear about how amazing his life is and his activities after we left work. It’s as if he thinks that we’re all waiting with bated breath to be rapt with tales of his wild bachelor life and highly derogatory debauchery.
By Bryan Chimney3 years ago in Fiction
Remembrance
Laughter filled the air on a cool summer day. We didn’t get many of these since the Texas heat reigned supreme. On this particular day, the sun decided to take a reprieve. It still shined in the clear blue sky, adjusting its rays for my personal comfort. My cousins and I made up a game. We would scurry to the top of the hill and roll down, giggling with delight. We ran up the hill barefoot; our toes invaded by the blades of grass that covered the field. We’d yell out “Ready! Set! Go!” and take turns seeing who’s the fastest. I was careful not to get my yellow sundress too dirty lest I hear Mama fuss. Though the current activity was not helping that effort.
By Bryan Chimney3 years ago in Fiction