Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
Never, ever, drink and write. Or for heavens sake, text anyone. What we think, what we utter, written while under the influence, may have a large amount of truth, but the manner of the delivery will most definitely lack the nessasary decorum.
By Katie 2 days ago in Poets
In the company of strangers, there is a togetherness that we all share. A shared commonality of a perceived goal. It is what we have gathered together for. Though the goal differs for all involved.
By Katie 6 days ago in Poets
I have to believe. There is no other possibility. I must stand fast in my belief. Without belief what do I have, what do any of us have?
By Katie 17 days ago in Poets
Do I have ten thousand days yet to live? Do I have one day yet to live? To weigh a day against how many I may have yet to live, should I waste it working?
By Katie about a month ago in Poets
Sure, we can do something. Any ideas? Oh, I don’t know. You? No not really. I’m bored. Yeah, me too. We could go for a drive.....
I paused to look at last year’s milkweed, it’s pods open and emptied. The stalk, dry and dead. A few seeds remained, clinging to the plant.
The time has come, the truth is out. People are dying. This shot, this thing, this weapon, is killing people. Everyday, more and more evidence, more and more examples of young healthy adults dropping dead.
Sometimes truth is a bitter pill. Many seem to have an aversion to it. Unable to reconcile what they were told to what is actually the truth.
By Katie 2 months ago in Poets
I dared to go against the tide. It threatened to pull me under. The looks, the condemnation. The unrelenting shaming by the tide that declared me a danger to society.
Just what am I waiting for? Am I that afraid? I’m stuck, I must be. Otherwise I would have already started what comes next.
Entering through the large double door, my world shifts. The library is exquisite, with dark wood and black iron everywhere. The shelves cradle the books in an endless embrace.
By Katie 3 months ago in Poets
Ezra woke and found himself leaning against an old apple tree in the late spring sun. It took a few seconds for him to gather his thoughts, waking in a new location. Soon though he rose and after attending to nature he gathered his meager belongings, including what appeared to be an old sword wrapped in a worn blanket. His attempts at disguising it, falling short as the hilt of the nearly four foot blade kept poking out. Luckily for him there was no one around to see it. For if the wrong eyes were to fall upon this particular item he would most likely have to use it, to retain it.
By Katie 3 months ago in Fiction
