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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020
'So, we finally meet, do we?''Yes, we do.''You know, I've admired you quite a bit, but now that your here in front of me, I feel as though the word admire doesn't quite fit. No, it would be more fitting to say I love you, like a brother, like the brother of mankind, like him.''Oh, but you shouldn't say that.''No, I shouldn't, and of course you would say that... But still, you also won't say that you're flattered, even though you most certainly are; you must be.''… I'm ashamed to say so but... I ...
I decided to move into a suburban neighborhood. I wished for some peace and quiet, and a nice place to settle down. Still, I cannot make any friends. Some of the kids in the neighborhood have noticed my hairy arms, and some have even called me a “furry freak.” I don’t mind these insults; I never have. But I have to be careful. I still cannot make any friends. As they say, it is best to hide a tree in a ...
In late November the leaves have flown, migrated to the ground to decompose into the soil; all of this signaled by the falling sun. Traversing through the heather, no longer bright purple, but a dull gray, and hardly recognizable, is a young man resembling a nomad. One can tell this by his clothes of course, with his worn-out shoes, which have tramped all over the highlands, and his ragged pants, which have become mincemeat at the ends and now drag along and collect dirt, small, particle sized souvenirs from the places he’s chanced to roa...
I do not have a ton of time to lavish upon such an insignificant tale, so I shall make haste and cut to the chase. The man of the hour and “protagonist” of my story is Mr. Bernard Valentine. Oh, these Bernards! As Dmitry Karamazov so humorously said about the hypocritical Rakitin. The Bernard of my story is a widower; his wife not even dead for a year, and here we are today, gathered in… well, whatever the devil they sa...
You think you would know somebody, if you had known them for several years; but there is a saying that goes: you don’t know somebody until you’ve lived with them; but lovers pay this no heed. Love is irrational, and how many times had I seen it and wondered: how do they love each other? And yet I never wondered this about my own love. Things changed drastically for much of the world and for my own home ...
When I saw him standing right in front of me in the middle of the street, I did not find it strange at all. In fact, it seemed rather ordinary, like it was supposed to be. Perhaps it was because he had only been put in the ground yesterday, and so, to me it seemed as if he had never really died; my mind had not yet had time to accept this. His smile was not meek like it usually was but was full of life and ener...
Just an aspiring writer, just getting started and not really sure what he's doing. Learning and moving forward.
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