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Literature Text
"Bro, if you listen
really close you can
hear the rocks talking."
really close you can
hear the rocks talking."
Literature
Guest Spotlight: Faternal Siblings
[This story is not written by me. It was written by my friend MCS who wanted to try his hand at writing. So be sure to leave a comment below on what you think of the story!] "Okay, so factoring in the online order promo code and all of these your total comes to seven dollars and thirty two cents. Huh." The delivery boy looked at his tablet, then the boy near his age holding the delivery: a stack of pizza boxes in his hands and a sheepish grin on his face. His concerns quickly disappeared as he was handed a twenty dollar bill and told to keep the change. "So uh, you prepping for a party or something?" he asked, trying to politely broach why this kid was buying a day's salary in pizza and clipping enough coupons to pay for a tenth of it. "Oh, that, uh, well, most of it isn't for me, yeah." the boy answered, chuckling nervously before stepping back inside his doorway, arms too full to wave back to the delivery boy. He kicked the door closed, leaned against it and sighed. Robin wasn't
Literature
Shady Maples
I don’t know what urge sent me there that evening, but I’m glad I went. They were tearing down Shady Maple Apartments - my first apartment. I pulled over to the side just to see the old building one more time and reminisce. The property was sealed off by a chain-link fence where construction - or rather demolition - workers, along with their bulldozers and backhoes, were all about the building complex. Already the car port was collapsed and the parking lot was being torn apart. Dust drifted into the air along with sounds of the ongoing demolition. It was a surreal sight and I found myself wondering what had become of the tenants. Like old Mr. Furgas... that man would talk to you for hours if you didn’t get away in time. Or the lady with all the cats that lived right below me. I had moved out years ago when I got a better job, and now I lived in a townhouse. But I found myself thinking back to the days when I was still struggling to make ends meet and of all the memories I had made.
Literature
Just A Man
I take enough to heart to need a hand kept on it just to be sure The contents don't spill out in a spinning swing of screams and tears But the hand isn't there because it shouldn't be there, how could it? There is too much going on in the world, just like there was yesterday And will be tomorrow as well as when my ashes are cozy in an urn. My words say how ridiculous it is, my brain knows it is as well but still, Someone has to do something because the people most in position To be the superheroes among us are more interested in letting us know Who the supervillains are: always the ones who stand for what they don't. If I step back and come to terms with what is so painfully obvious To me and everyone else that it could be branded on my writing hand So just maybe I'll stop carrying myself away to being some kind of super man Who knows how to help everyone smile and fights so hard for light That there should be no room to just take a breath and process the dark Which is a part of
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"I...don't hear anything."
"Dude. No. Listen to my pet rocks. They're so loud. And I think that one's a girl. I could have baby rocksssss."
Today's Multhaiku prompt is "hey, you're stoned" with bonus! pet rocks. Because stoned. Rocks. GET IT. HAAAAA.
"Dude. No. Listen to my pet rocks. They're so loud. And I think that one's a girl. I could have baby rocksssss."
Today's Multhaiku prompt is "hey, you're stoned" with bonus! pet rocks. Because stoned. Rocks. GET IT. HAAAAA.
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