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A Boy's Shadow

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A Boy's Shadow 
  It's a cold winter morning, before the sun has risen. Snow covers all inches of the neighboring surroundings. The sky is engulfed in dark feathery clouds. The air is silent as the soft trickling of snow obscures with beauty.

  On this cold winter morning, a young boy, the age of thirteen wakes from his slumber. From his dream of dragons and wizards. He opens his eyes slowly, gathering himself into reality. Like picking the last few pieces of a puzzle.

   Awake, he sits up in his bed, as he does, something strange rushes through his body. He loses his ability to breath, but only for a moment. His skin flushes pale as he loses breath. What ever passed through him. It felt as if it was a dark presence, something ghastly.

 The boy, feels his body regain control, his lungs fill with air. A sigh of relief overcomes his chest. But as he sits, he ponders the presence he just felt. He then remember such a moment, one as exact as this; but in a dream.

  It happened onl…

The Angels Have not Left

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The Angels Have not Left
 The sun sets high, it's midday and the kingdom of Erlise is under attack by Herald. Herald is the neighboring king. A king of greed and power, his magic surpasses most. They say he sold his soul to the devil for the power he wields.

 His magic is dark, it is fueled by anger and the souls of the damned. His eyes as red as the blood that pumps beneath flesh. He wears a cloak of black, draped over armor built by the hands of demons. His sword, designed in constriction to grow in height.

 He wields such a blade with ferocity and rage. As the sun sits high Herald walks the towering steps to the entrance of Erlise. The guards, mere mortals, some bear magic, magic that is cast by word. But most mortals cannot reach beyond the ability to cast a fireball.

 They wear armor of silver coated in spells to resist magic. But as they rush to strike down Herald from where he stands. Their armor is capable of no resistance. He slaughters them where they stand with a mere f…

A Love at War

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A Love at War
Darling, I stand before you as I prepare for my possible end, our end. For tonight I must take up my sword and fight for our country. I have bound myself to this country so that I may fight for it and allow it to stand beyond the test of time. To see its banner fly even through the darkest of times.

 But my darling, as we take our last kiss and hold each other before we must say goodbye. Let it be known to you and the world, that I not only fight for the land beneath my feet and those that walk beside me. But fight for our opportunity of love.

 I fight so that we may be safe in our homes. Safe, so that we may birth a family and grow old. I fight for our love darling. So that we may not love only for a moment, but for a lifetime. For we are given freedom to choose our love. To hold hands with whomever we may place our hearts upon.

 I fight for these soils so that those who cannot defend themselves may have opportunity to live. Opportunity to do what they love. Opportunit…

Alone among the Rain

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Alone among the Rain
Though the rain shall pour and I may sit alone atop a bench in an empty park. I have my dreams, my imagination and the pages I hold in my hand. Pages that are to be written as I wish. To be read as I mean them to be read.

 Though this be an empty moment, a shallow grave for many thoughts. I shall continue thinking, being, doing. I shall live in the rain if I must, a constant wash of my suffering. I sit between the darkness and light, as do you.

 In a struggle to lean one way more than the other and sometimes I do. Sometimes the demons grasp my ribs and pull me. Sometimes the angels hold my heart and I allow such an embrace. I know demons be thy enemy, no matter their words.

 But I am but a human. A soul torn from the eyes of god set upon this earth to fight. To win my way to my everlasting love. To raise up my wings and fly or set down my feet and walk. It is I who designs the story I read.

It is I who sits alone among this cold night and it is I who chooses to re…

They are Watching, do you See?

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They are Watching, do you See?
They are watching, seeing us through the lens of our own homes. They have nestled in the lines of contracts. Legal agreements we are either too lazy to read or understand little of. They are only expanding their reach.

Knowing our words before we type them, say them. Recording conversations in silence as we play music from their design. We are sheep among a pack of wolves. They reach for the endless power of greed.

Seeking new ways to generate the wealth they need no more. They salivate for the ability to control. To slither into the cameras of our technology. We ignore them, for we would rather be willfully blind than call them out. Than make a stand for our privacy.

For it is easier to be told what do to, become slaves of our own suffering, than build character to breed strength and fight. 

Our conversations are now as sacred as pile of dog shit in the grass. And they shall guide us to where we shall eat, sleep, and work. They are guiding us in the wa…

A Risky Book

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A Risky Book

"Open the book!" Misha says as Soush holds it in his hands. His light silver hair reflects the burning flame of the candle as Misha excitedly holds it over Soush's head.

"Quickly, quickly, open it before mother gets home!" Misha wiggling her excited body as a drop of candle wax lands on the cover of the book.

Soush pulls the book away as soon as the wax lands on it. "Look what you did...keep the candle away or you'll ruin the book." Misha pulls the candle away quickly as her face falls with unexpected disappointment in her self.

But pulling it away quickly, more candle wax drops from melting stick of wax. Some even splashes onto the ground and onto the surrounding books that are sprawled out on the floor. Soush, see's what Misha has done.

He stands up in haste, drops the book on the ground. His eyes glare upon Misha as he attempts to grasp the candle. But Misha resists, she pulls the candle away from Soush as he fights for it.

&qu…

Saved of Death

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Spared of Death
 It was our last meal, I remember it well. It was the meal before everything changed. It was the meal  that tasted so sweet yet so bitter. I remember what it was to this day. It was rice, beans, and a packet of salt. We were given water that had run stale from sitting in horse troughs.

 The air was cold that day, the fog was dense. The clouds were low, but floated with great a presence. They were of a darkly color. Looking up at them as I ate my food in a huddled crowd of others, I remember they gave me an ominous feeling.

 But they also gave me comfort. Like a wet coat in the rain, it may not completely protect you from the rain, but it is better than not having it. As I was eating my food, I remember feeling an elderly man, probably fifty years older than me shivering wildly.

 His eyes were dark, circled in depression and misery. His skin wrinkled like an old rag. His breath was shallow. His hands shaking as one held his plate and the other attempted to feed himself.…