Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

November 16, 2018, 10:28:05 AM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Bells  (Read 90 times)
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« on: December 07, 2017, 01:29:54 PM »

The taste of rust on my tongue and lips makes me feel like I’ve eaten a bunch of rusty nails, silver metal in my mouth from like dropped coins coming from a nasty water puddle, the nasty rust all over my finger nails making me itch all over, feeling of the hot ground under my feet like walking into a steamy sauna, round figures in my face and huge buildings all around like I’m in New York City, dark tunnels of concrete surrounding me like a cave, footsteps following close behind me, have I picked up his coins that he believes belongs to him, smiling and laughing all the way through this alley of money, smelling the roses, the trees and late autumn with winter creeping around the corner, chicken and all kinds of food smells coming from the corner restaurants, walking faster and faster as this man is trying to creep up on me, get away, heart beating fast and simultaneously with the steps which suddenly turn into running, looking behind me I find no one is there, where could he have gone, turning back around he’s standing right in front of me with a million dollars in his hand and says “have you dropped something, I believe this belongs to you”, I suddenly realize he wasn’t chasing me for the heck of it but trying to give me back something so precious that belongs to me, wait a minute...
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