medusaeyes.com

Art inspired micro fiction and mediocre ramblings enjoyed by a handful of people.

Archive for December, 2005

These Walls Have Ears

Saturday, December 31st, 2005

She cannot help herself. As much as she knows she shouldn’t give in, she is compelled to listen. She is consumed by the desire to know the intimate details of her neighbors lives, to know their private conversations. She sees them in public and turns her eyes away. It is not right, to know so [...]

Words Spoken in a Cemetery

Monday, December 19th, 2005

The day your life ended was the day mine changed forever. Without you, even simple daily tasks become a challenge. Life dares me to struggle on, laughing at me when I give in to the grief. Because grief consumes me, it owns me. There are days when I long for the pain to end. But [...]

The Beauty of Childhood

Monday, December 12th, 2005

Years later when she would look back upon this moment, as she would often do, it seemed as if it was all a dream. She would remember it as one of the happiest days of her childhood and yet she is unable to describe why. She is surrounded by angels and innocence, beauty and vitality [...]

Unrequited

Thursday, December 8th, 2005

She looks away during his serenade. He is flattered, thinking that she is lost in the tune. In truth, she cannot allow herself to meet his eyes, for her thoughts are with another. Another voice remembered from a similar moment. That voice, those eyes, those notes are where her heart is. It is the strongest [...]

Seek and Ye Shall Find

Monday, December 5th, 2005

Suspicion tickles her mind, playing not-so-innocent tricks with her thoughts. He truly loves her, of this she is certain. Yet, why does she harbor this nagging fear that all is not well? Words overheard take on a different, sinister meaning to her ears. Her heart, once confident and happy, now wears a cold shroud of [...]

Brief Moment of Bliss

Saturday, December 3rd, 2005

Silence is a golden beauty, a fragile and precious thing to be treasured above all the other moments that make up a day. Soon it will pass as a new moment swells to replace it. The solitude will shift into memory and the day passes on and grows into the busy routine to which I [...]

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