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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
August 24, 2005
A little Ghost Story. by ~jkrende
Sit down and listen to ~jkrende, a real medic, telling you A little Ghost Story. Spiced with perfect authenticity, this starts out as a burnt-out medic story before chilling you to your bones.
Sit down and listen to ~jkrende, a real medic, telling you A little Ghost Story. Spiced with perfect authenticity, this starts out as a burnt-out medic story before chilling you to your bones.
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Suggested by danielzklein
Literature
umbrellas
I.
A boy putters in the hotel
corridor, leashed
by a single thread of duty--
it is wound
twice around the doorknob,
pulls taut at his wrist.
Recede through the keyhole,
and his keepers are weary,
sprawled like dead
leaves on bedspreads,
and fading
into sleep.
II.
A small girl wails, maybe three,
her teethy pitch escalating
by years.
In the rented night,
her last cry strangles,
undone by hands
on wrists.
III.
A forty-foot red curtain separates us
from the amphibious stage.
At the cirque du soleil
(i squint to see the sun),
clowns chase leaks
with patchy umbrellas.
This is a present, a moment
like a birthday. But
Literature
Trenches
She's aphasic. She doesn't
cough mustard gas
from rice paper lungs.
Her armies have learned
it's habit to fight,
fall back,
retreat,
lose a black mud trench
and retake it
five hours later.
For one million casualties,
one hundred yards were gained.
Each yard
is ten thousand men down,
and she crawls
over their bodies,
fingers and toes
grappling
with dirt, blood,
and blue flesh.
She says,
Sometimes I'm so hungry
that I feel full,
sick and clenched.
And sometimes
my empty hands feel
like they're holding something
heavy
and solid.
Literature
Slipped
Now.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, don't worry. And be quiet."
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Look, it won't take more than a minute."
"Somehow I doubt that."
"Oh, shut up. I don't need your help."
"You may not need my help, but you clearly need professional help."
"What? Professionals do this kind of thing?"
"…Are you always this stupid? I'm just wondering for future reference."
[Silence]
"…Hey?"
[Silence]
"Oh, don't be that way."
[Silence]
"…Oh God."
---
There was a time when I was eight years old. It wasn't a terribly eventful time. Basically, my mother took me to the mall and we window-shopped. Then we left. That was it. Th
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After several revisions, this is what I feel pretty comfortable with. I think I've identified the worst parts and managed to get this into something resembling proper form. Well, I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it. I know I'm not Ernest Hemmingway, so thanks to everyone who's left any feedback.
Mature
© 2005 - 2024 jkrende
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beautiful.