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Literature
Fleeting Illumination
Traveling afar Through meadows and mossy bogs Ghostly lights appear Utterly awestruck Stepping further in the gloom Following blindly Like wisps of cool fire Unearthly and alluring Dream-like in the night Glimmering beacon A flash of gossamer wings And it’s dark again
Literature
Burnt Offerings
I’m in a burning building My first thoughts are to flee Save myself from the vile smoke Filling up my lungs But... There are many floors With rooms on every floor I can hear the cries of others Their frantic pleas I feel a moral obligation to help As many as possible I begin to open doors Some contain living people Others only the remains Of what once were human beings I try and get as many of the living Out as possible I am not strong enough to carry them all They must be able to walk themselves Even then I can only guide them to safety I’m in danger of smoke inhalation myself Plus, I’m not sure which doors I open will contain even more fire and smoke When I open doors And only find the dead I become discouraged It’s so sad! Some won’t even let me assist them Their capacity to differentiate right From wrong Has corroded They grab on to me and won't let go The smoke starts to affect my own judgment I begin to use force to help some flee But this only makes me weaker And fills
Literature
Delivery Driver
As I drive down the lonely road, the only thing I can hear are the soft whimpers of the bound and gagged girls coming from the back of the van. Quietly sobbing through their gags, trying to plead for any kind of help. And at times, I think, how did I end up in this position? Honestly, it was because I didn't do well in math. My senior year of high school, I was a decent student at just about everything, I could write, I could recite Shakespeare, give an oral report on World War I...but I just wouldn't do math to save my life. I bombed my SATs 3 times over my math scores. Any prospect of going to the state universities with my friends was gone. And as everyone else showed off acceptance letters, I had to hide my rejection letters in shame. Looking back, I probably should have just done a few years at a community college or a trade school. Only, both were looked down upon and I just wanted to move away from my parents and start a life. But then I saw an ad for art school. I was a fairly good artist and looked into it. All I needed was a good portfolio and they didn't care about math scores. I thought this was my way to a good future. Maybe end up in Hollywood as an animator or do kids books. Fast forward to after art school. No job offers and I had a mountain of student loan debt. It was as much as a medical student. I tried really hard to do what I could. Moved back in with family. Worked 3 jobs. But I was always coming up short and the collection notices kept piling up. My parents took out a loan as well and it was coming back to haunt them. There were threats of losing our home. My parents would never admit it, but they regretted taking out that loan. One of my jobs was a delivery guy and one day, I took an order to the rough part of town. I didn't want to know what was in the package. The recipient was a suspicious looking man. He looked well to do but it was like he was hiding something. Upon the 5th delivery to him, he noted how I was the one honest driver who didn't steal from his packages. He liked that and asked if I wanted to make some real money. Thinking of my parents and paying off those loans, I was curious. Before I knew it, I was wearing a ski mask and told to drive, don't ask questions, just wait to be loaded and deliver the goods to their destination. I was heavily cautioned to never sample the goods. I didn't know what that meant and honestly wanted to back out but the man gave me a wad of cash and told me I'd get the rest upon delivery . My first night, I drove the van into a dark alley near the downtown area. It was a mix of nightclubs and seedy looking establishments. I waited and waited until the backdoor flew open and a pair of girls in skimpy club wear were tossed in. They had their hands tied behind their backs, ankles zipped and duct tape over their lips. They were blindfolded as well. A masked man said ,"check your phone for coordinates and deliver them ASAP. Remember, don't touch them!" The door shut and I drove off. 2 very attractive twenty-something aged girls struggling in their bindings. One was a brunette, possibly a Latina. The other was a redhead. Both were leggy. Short skirts riding up to reveal their panties. I did think about maybe letting them go and running away myself. But these guys knew where I lived and worse, my parents. So I kept on driving to the GPS location. The area was loaded with riverside mansions, one of the richest neighborhoods in the city. Basically the richest people around. I drove on up to a gate and was buzzed in. It was a long winding road through a little forest. Armed guards met me at the drive way as I pulled up. They opened the back and hoisted the 2 struggling girls over their shoulders. It would be the last I'd see of them. But not the last time I'd see this particular mansion. A large man wearing a bathrobe knocked on my window and I rolled it down. "New driver, huh? Nice to meet you. Thank you for bringing me my order. I've had my eye on their Instagram for weeks and just had to have them!" He handed me a wad of cash, "until next time! And the more the load, the more the money!" I drove off, wondering, did I just deliver girls to the Mayor??? That was years ago. My parents would ask what kind of job I had. I would just tell them I still work in delivery. I kept telling myself when I get those loans paid off, I'd away. Well, they have been paid off for months. And yet, here I am, with a van load of sorority girls in their panties and night shirts. On their way to that mansion. As I gazed over their hot little bodies, I thought...time for a new car...
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Comments6
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Great imagery. It reads like a short story, yet every line is poetic and vivid.
Solid work.
Solid work.