Comfort
Safety
Silent peace enclosing, surrounding like a warm liquid
A baptism of fluffy blankets, the soft caress against your naked skin
Smells and sounds of childhood dreams
Awakened by a mother’s familiar voice
The smell of cologne lingers on a cheek where scratchy whiskers tickled
Whispered wishes, waxy candles and the sweet taste of confection
Friendships forged in backyards that time and distance cannot diminish
Awkward dances, a heart fluttering stolen first kiss
Caps and gowns, tear stained goodbyes
A thunderbolt of the soul striking two hearts simultaneously
Passionate sweat, and shared cries of ecstasy
The powdery smell of a miracle that you can hold
Eggnog and the smell of pine encircle a family’s joyful celebration
Vacations, campfires that pop and spark embers into the night sky
Children leaving the nest to fly towards their own destiny
Generations increase, the family tree blossoms
Retirement, long nights holding your best friend
Wrinkles that hold the memory of laughter and tears in their folds
Feeling the love of family, a hand in yours as you close your eyes
Laying down the heavy labors of life
Peace
A Promise of More…
About the Creator
Brian Cochran
"Life is uncertain...eat dessert first!"
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Words To Die By
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Jennings grunted sourly, staring at the poster beside the airlock door, and reread the words yet again. The poster was the only thing decorating the bare 20’ X 20’ airlock used to execute prisoners. “The warden was truly a twisted bitch,” he thought. She had even pasted one of those ‘have a nice day’ yellow smiley faces beside the word scream. Jennings waited for death. It was close now. Any moment the airlock door would open, and he would be ejected into space. Three years he had spent on Kranock 9, this death row prison, convicted for the murder of his wife. Thirty-six agonizing months waiting for all his legal appeals to fail, and lead him to this moment. His wife was dead, murdered, and he had been blamed for it. It didn’t matter that he was innocent, that the frame job was perfect, the judge and system corrupt. All that mattered was his joy, his life and his future, had been snuffed out in an instant.
By Brian Cochran2 years ago in Fiction
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