L. M. Williams
I'm a self-published author that enjoys writing fantasy/supernatural novels and occasionally dabble in poetry and realistic fiction. In my spare time I'm writing, a freelance artist or annoying my cat. "Rising Stars" is my first novel.
Just A Swimmin' In the Ocean
Have you ever seen the sunrise from under the water? It's pretty cool, you know...when I'm awake to see it. The current of the ocean sways and grabs the tendrils of sunlight, pulling them down in rainbowed bands of gold and pink and orange. It looks like mermaid's hair threaded through the first couple feet of water.
It starts with a small box. It's dainty and encased with a thin unwrinkled brown paper wrapping. It fits in the palms of your hands. It is easy to hide. You wish it was easy to misplace and forget about. But it follows you, no matter where you go. It is as much a part of you as the air in your lungs. As the blood in your veins.
A Little Bit Goes A Long Way
The rain sounds more of a dull roar outside of my car than anything else. It's a solid sheet of white pounding down, consuming the world in a little grey cloak. It is fitting that the world would be in mourning. The world doesn't have the right to go on, to be happy--at least not right now.
"Does that tickle?" His breath caresses her navel as he dribbles chocolate across her chest and down her stomach. The chocolate is sticky and thick and just warm enough that it burns in the most intoxicating ways, leaving a sensual tingling trail over the surface of her skin.
In The Heat of Summer
Moving to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere was never my plan. I prefer the city, the noise, the people. But when the office started making cuts and gave the option of 4 weeks severance or move to the "rural office" with moving expenses, I selected the latter.
The Power of Zen
If you are anything like me, you keep going and going until you drop. You have a checklist/do-list a mile long and it seems like you always put more things on it than you can remove. At the end of the day that glass (or bottle) of wine just isn't cutting it anymore and you need something to relax you, something that will allow you to simply take a step back and breathe.
Aim-mo lays on their back. They can feel each little pebble and dip in the cement floor beneath them. It seems like a weird place to be, just laying on the floor, but it's oddly comfortable. Temperatures are low, the first break they've gotten all summer. A solid crisp beam of sunlight slices through the torn currents covering the glassless window. The curtains silently flap back and forth in a soft morning breeze.
When This is All That's Left
The strobe lights rove over the dark walls, exposing neon words spray-painted onto the walls a millennium ago. Gang signs and slang that no one can even recognize anymore. A heavy bass drowns out the words--if there are any--to the song that is playing. Each thump of music reverberates throughout her entire being. Every pulse shakes a bit more of the settled ash and dust free. The air is cloudy, creating almost an ethereal glow to the club.
If you wake up early enough in the morning, when the earth is still settled and hasn't yet woken, before those who remain stir the dust, you can see the sun. Well you can't see the sun. No one can. No one has for at least one-seventy years. But in those quiet still minutes you can see this bright glow through the hazy grim layer that fills the sky. And it's beautiful. The sun itself a deep burning orange with a haloed glow around it, where the smog almost looks like gold.
I've struggled with my mental health for most of my life. Considering all things, I've been pretty lucky though. For quite some time I'd been able to manage things without outside assistance, but over the past year my anxiety has become completely overwhelming and out of control. And as most individuals who have anxiety and depression know the vicious cycle of these two feeding off of each other. I either spent days oversleeping or not able to sleep at all because I couldn't turn my brain off. Eating was extreme or nonexistent. And for the first time in a very long time I had the desire to hurt myself again, mostly in the form of scratching my skin (sometimes to the point of bleeding) to help calm my worst anxiety attacks. One night as I stood in line at CVS to buy extra large Band-Aids, normally a completely inconspicuous item but somehow felt dirty like I couldn't let other people know what I was buying--and more specifically why I was buying them--, to cover the deep scratches on my thigh that I finally admitted to myself that I needed help.
Save The Chubby Unicorns
Over the years I've heard more and more about how the pollution on this planet has gotten out of control. You see recycle bins popping up near everywhere next to trash cans. Businesses and schools proudly claim to be "going green" and I've been left to ask myself how I can help. What is it I can do?