A deer drinking at a stream,
The shuffling in the bushes,
A cold stare.
The whistling gust,
Mighty-hungry breath,
A bloody lust.
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Open highway,
Open mind,
The way to freedom!
No force, no push,
Jump in!
Let the wave carry you.
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I hear an echo,
A memory of the past,
Of things gone, but very much alive.
Within the echo, there is light,
Happiness, sadness –
And an occasional fight.
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Heat vanished, Winter awakened
It swept the land with its greedy paws
Winter-consumed peaks,
No plants, No animals, no life
Humans died, some survived
Fire! They screamed.
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The classroom was in a mundane, soporific trance when Harry walked in. The doors squealed drawing all the eyes in his direction. He bowed to the professor, apologizing for being tardy, and snaked around the room until he got to his seat in the center. Continue reading
It looked like a crown on the horizon. The white tent didn’t have any signs, nor any indication of its purpose, but people gathered there every single day. At sunrise visitors were magnetized to it even though the show starts a bit later. One by one they formed a single-file line, which grew with a frightening pace, making all the other business envious. Sometimes the line snaked around, hiding behind corners, and even blocking the entire street. On other occasions, the people formed a chaotic mass that encircled the tent. This would, ultimately, lead to a peculiar experience, where an individual’s name would be called out. Continue reading