Poetry · Short Stories

The Angels Are on Fire

Here the shadows are falling as the voices are calling straining to a whine. Here the bravest of men are running scared searching for a way out, groping for a sign; and the angels are on fire. Here the weak are crushed into scattered dust, as the strong stand tall and thrive. Here there is no hope as tears form rivers that never run themselves dry; and the angels are on fire. Here life is close to death and the living close to dead, as images of loss and pain go running through your head. Here chaos takes the place of order and resentment the place of love, here we are forced to exist in torment as god watches from above. Here we are lost and confined in the mire waiting to be free, but the angels are on fire and can no longer hear us scream.

Short Stories

Deep Water

They had always been very close, six year old Caleb and his pretty young mother, a perfectly inseparable pair. Caleb’s father Adam was ten years older than his twenty six year old bride. He had cut himself out of the family picture the day little Caleb was born, finding a wife and son to be more of a hassle than a joy. Young Caleb loved his sweet and gentle mother very much, and since they both had no one who cared for them their whole world revolved around each other. They were both very sweet and happy people, but sometimes Caleb’s mother would breakdown mentally. Sometimes he would see her weeping alone in the garden or the kitchen, and he would sneak up behind her and throw his small childish arms around her pale and slender neck, and rest his face in her hair which always smelled of fresh rain or the sweet lavender perfume that she always wore. And after a few moments her sobs would quite themselves, and they would listen to the sounds of the day, the wind rustling through the tall and sturdy trees, the small listless blue birds singing their perfectly timed songs, the distant laughter of the children playing in the house next door, or the slow even ticking of the kitchen clock.

One night as his mother was tucking Caleb into bed he noticed a Serene look in her soft brown eyes, that he had never seen before not even in her happiest moments. He found the look strange since she had been so unhappy lately. He could see a calmness in her eyes, that seemed out of place with the excitement in her voice. And gently leaning forward she kissed his forehead, and told him how much she loved him. And he held her close never wanting to let her go, but she slowly pulled away and turned off his bedside lamp and said goodnight. And in an even lower voice he could almost hear her say goodbye. After carefully closing his bedroom door, she walked quietly down the hall and into her bedroom. She walked slowly towards the bedroom door, and took out her best dress and gently laid it onto the bed being very cautious not to wrinkle it. She then slipped into the bathroom and ran the bathtub water, and after it had filled almost to the top she got inside fully dressed and slit her wrists wide open. Caleb’s father had been working late that night but he arrived about six hours after his pretty young wife had taken her own life. He came in through the back door of the kitchen calling out for his wife and son, but he then realized that they must still be asleep so he decided to wash up before breakfast. And once inside the bathroom he screamed in shock, the bathtub was well filled with now ice cold water, and seemingly all of his wife’s blood. He ran for the phone being careful not to slip on the blood and water soaking the floor.

The funeral was the next day for it was unusually hot for that time of year. Caleb was devastated and could barely stand of his own will, he was mostly leaning against his father. Her body was small and lean in her pale silk dress, and her hair was loosely braided to the side. And there were thin bits of silk tied where she had cut herself. Caleb began to cry violently as he threw open the lid of the coffin, and crawled inside, expressing a deep wish to lie beside her and sleep in her arms forever. Kicking and screaming his way inside a general cry arose, the women where hysterical as the men tried to free the boys fingers from the inside of the lid. And after much force and calming the boy let go, and passed out in his fathers arms. Months went by but little Caleb was never the same. And one evening as he was walking through the woods where he had always followed his mother, hiding from tree to tree he suddenly remembered something that his mother had told him when he was very small. She said that when people die we should never be sad because one day we will all meet again in heaven. So with this in mind Caleb walked over to where he knew his mother’s favorite tree would be, and kneeling down he took a deep breath and smiled, letting himself fall face first into the deep water of the pond, knowing that he would be seeing his sweet and gentle mother again. He was found the next morning.

Short Stories

The Wolves of a Madman

It was nearly dusk, one freezing and moonless night in October, when a lost and terrified man came screaming from the protective shelter of the deep frozen woods holding his seemingly injured hand. He fell at the feet of a young girl with deep dark eyes and a sweet and innocent look on her face. He begged her to help free him of the wild beasts following him close behind. She stared for a second or two into his lost and tortured eyes, before quickly searching around. Why there is no one here but us she spoke in a comforting tone, when suddenly the man screamed as though something were ripping the flesh from his throat and jerked his body wildly in massive convulsions. She then dropped to her knees trying helplessly to restrain him, but was only thrown backwards with a forceful push. Suddenly he seized convulsing and gazed openly at her with clear eyes. She then approached him as he got to his feet. My god! The young girl cried in panic are you alright? He spoke quietly as he faced her, not now perhaps never. Are you mad? She inquired, but there was no reply as he shook with exhaustion. Does this happen to you very often? She asked in almost a whisper. Only when I have been bitten -he answered in the same low tone, as he showed her an unmarked hand, and as she slowly walked away from him, she stared off into the distance of the woods.

Poetry · Short Stories

The Junkie Wept

As he awoke on the cold cement street of ice and snow. He could feel his body cramp with junk sickness as he went in search of a phone. He called up his dealer, he was in need of a fix but his dealer was out, and his stomach felt sick. And and as he sat for a rest the junkie wept. He felt for a pocket he had known would be empty, and his veins were burning so he killed for a fifty.

And as he took a deep breath the junkie wept. He then approached a dealer who sold him a gram but the seller was crooked and the junk felt bad, It past through his blood with fiendish slowness, he knew that he was near death but he had always known this. He was no longer searching for a temporary solution but the eternal fix, his head felt numb and his tongue felt thick, and as his body lost all feeling. He reached out for the cruel dealers hands as he laid down and slept, and for the very last time the junkie wept.

Poetry · Short Stories

The Drowning Man

He is lost in the depths of the water, and he knows the struggle means to lie idle or to survive. He is caught between the sea and death, but he knows he is alive, as he gasps for air in the fight as he screams. He is thrashing for support in a place that holds no comfort, he is taken down by force, and he knows that he is done for. He sees a mirage of all of the people that he had known before this unforeseen crisis, and he knows the end is near he can no longer fight this. And just as he had sunk beneath the malice of the storm, a pair of gentle hands grasped his and guided him towards the shore.

Short Stories

Short Story: The Friend at The Feast

It was Christmas eve day when he and his wife departed to see his her parents. They were extremely anxious to see their daughter again after their daughter’s husband had suffered a mental breakdown just one month before. The Doctor of the patient thought it best that he should stay home, but his wife’s parents wanted to see their daughter for Christmas. Soon after they had arrived dinner was served, his wife had seated him between her mother and herself so she could keep a close eye on him.

The prayer was then said and the turkey passed around when suddenly he felt a sharp elbow crush into his side as a voice softly whispered into his ear. After a moment’s pause, he let his eyes leave his plate and glanced very quickly next to his wife and sitting there was a long decayed and filthy corpse. His clothes were thin and scarce and his skin was hanging off in long pieces. The fleshless face grinned at him as he settled his decomposing mass into his seat, sitting as straight and bold as a tombstone. The man sat aghast at the unholy image looking around anxiously to see if anyone else could see this atrocity but no one even glanced in his direction. The corpse then bent over, as if picking something up that had fallen off of the dinner table, but to the mans horror he came back up with one of his rotten toes and placed it on the man’s wife’s plate. The man nearly vomited from the intense odor coming from the dish beside him and quickly jumped up to remove it from his wife’s plate before she swallowed it whole.

His wife saw him make a mad dash for the plate and quickly seated him back down. The man then saw the corpse place his reeking hand on his wife’s shoulder and firmly pulling her close to him as he proceeded to kiss her slowly on her face. The man then screamed and threw aside the chair beside his wife in an attempt to remove the corpse from his wife’s face. His wife then picked up the unoccupied chair and pushed it close to the table The man then went into the kitchen for a strong drink, and from the distance of the kitchen he could see the corpse walking around the dinning room table placing his skeletal hands upon the shoulders of the guests and even laughing at their jokes with a bone chilling sound that reminded him of a frightened bird being chased by a wild storm. The corpse then winked at the man from afar, as it lit a cigarette and tossed the still burning match on to the Christmas tree setting it ablaze. The man then came running out of the kitchen with a bucket of water in an attempt to put out the flames.

A general cry arose for the man did not put out the fire merely soaking every present beneath it. He then tried to explain his action but his wife’s parents told him that the tree was not even plug in yet, he then spoke of the cigarette but again they explained that there was not even a smoker in the house. Everyone then took there seats for desert. By now the corpse had ceased playing games and merely sat staring blankly at the man with empty sockets filled with sheer darkness. But a little later on, the corpse grew restless and decided to play one more joke. The corpse walked slowly into the kitchen and grabbed a long knife from the kitchen counter and came back out into the dinning room were everyone was finishing their desert. The corpse then walked softly over to the man’s wife and plunged the long lean knife into her back. Horrified at the corpses actions, the man then seized the knife from the corpse’s fleshless hand and proceeded to slit his own throat. And as the man slowly slipped into complete darkness, he could see the corpse’s grinning face slowly fade away.

Written and Submitted by: Twilight Garden 93

Short Stories

Short Story: “The Lady of The Evening”

“The Lady of The Evening”

I had just hung up the telephone after about three minutes of talking to a man named Danny, who had a little business that operated on the fringes of society. He bought and sold many things, some more important than others, but things like drugs and alcohol and of course women. I was more then a little nervous as I paced the hard wooden floor of my apartment, after all I had never done anything like this before. And just as I was about to have a third glass of wine, I heard a gentle knock at my door. I let her knock two or three times to make it seem more causal; like I wasn’t to desperate or anything like that. So very slowly, and of course casually, I opened the old and creaky apartment door.

To my amazement, I saw a very young and pretty girl who was probably no more then seventeen. She was wearing a long yellow rain coat for it was raining like a banshee outside. And I do not know why, but for some strange reason I was expecting her to be wearing a short fur coat, or at the very least a bright red over coat; because that was what they had always shown in the movies. I then asked her to come in after about a minute or two of blank staring of course. I asked her to come in and sit down as I helped her take off her pale yellow rain coat. I then received my second shock of the night, she was wearing an extremely plain pink dress, not a red dress or a black dress, but a plain and simple pink cotton dress with long sleeves and everything. And she just sat there in that simple pink dress with her young face looking completely fresh and innocent. She was not even wearing any makeup, just a small amount of blue eye shadow. The kind that young girls wear when they want to look older than they really are.

At first I wanted to ask her how the hell she had gotten herself into such a sad line of business; but she already looked so scared and nervous. So I offered her a drink instead, but she said that she does not drink alcohol. This girl did not even drink! She almost seemed too good to be true. I wanted to end the whole night then and there, and send her home to her mother, but I knew that the truth of it was that once she left me tonight, she would be going home to Danny her business manager –so to speak. After then, we were both seated, she on the corner of my bed and I on a torn blue chair across the room. We just sat and talked the whole night through, yet the original plan for the evening was not even mentioned once. I liked voice a lot, her face, the things that she had told me in pinky-sworn secrecy. And in return, I made her laugh and smile for the first time in a long time, and the gradually scared and nervous look had left her sweet and gentle face completely.

And as the sun came up, she told me that it was time for her to go. She would not accept payment for the night, since there was nothing but innocence between us. But she finally came around to accepting at least cab fair. And as we said our goodbyes, we both knew that no one would believe the truth about what had really happened that night. But just by being together, for even just that one night, made the next days rumors and uneasy stares well worth the trouble because we both knew what we had truly shared, and what I had really gained from my lady of the evening.

Written and submitted by: Twilight Garden 93