All posts tagged short story

white boots, blank pages

A white plastic bag crosses your path and you stop to let it pass. It tumbles down towards the other end of the platform, moving in erratic circles, but always avoiding falling down onto the tracks. You watch it and feel a bit guilty for not picking it up and dumping it into the nearest Read more…

White Space

Why is this so hard? Why are there no more dragons? Or unicorns? Or starships? Monsters? Mysteries? Why do I only see 26 letters on this keyboard instead of a million stories waiting to be told? Why am I even looking at those keys? I do not need to, I can type quite well, I usually do not have to see my fingers to know what words they bring to life. Why is writing suddenly so hard? Read more…

Sunday Silence

Light streams into the room from the window above my head. If you can call it that. The light, I mean. It’s grey. It’s dull. And it’s a problem, because it means that it is too dark in the room to work properly, but not dark enough to switch on the lights. I sit on the sofa and stare up into the sky. Looks very familiar. This is what my soul must look like, I’m thinking and watch a small, very dark cloud pass over my head. This is me. Just a dull, grey mess. I wonder if there are sounds up there in the sky. If the clouds are whispering words to one another. Down here there are no words left. And no sounds. Read more…

Churchyard Silence

There is a sound. I can hear it, but I cannot identify it. It’s not the muffled “thump” of my feet on the muddy path nor the rustling of leaves or the hum of passing cars in the nearby street. It isn’t caused by the birds in the trees or the squirrels on the ground. And it has nothing to do with the low chatter of other people around me. I don’t know if there is a real cause for it. It’s just there. Right here. And only here. And its name is silence. Read more…