seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from China
Reading List
♥ Self-Help Guide for Insomniacs
♥ How to be Goth in the 21st Century
♥ Medical Journal of the Circulatory System
♥ When Red is Your Love Language
♥ Blood Types 101
♥ How to Make Friends and Not Drink Them
♥ Interview With a Vampire
Flash fiction: Silver’s final test
Three more minutes. I can do this!
Translucent fingers clicked the wires into place, and a toothy grin flashed in mid-air. Pale eyes glanced at the clock then about them at the others in the room. A hullabaloo of activity and mayhem filled the classroom—as always. The pale eyes rolled.
Here, at ghost school, incorporeal beings learned the mysteries of the haunt, the pedagogies of poltergeisting, and overall spookiness. But, when ageless phantasms teach the same series of classes for hundreds of years, the methods of scaring don’t exactly keep up with the times.
Silver knew that and had earned his reputation as an uncouth disturbance to the ethereal forces at school. Even now, as his classmates practised the goo-meltingly dull activities of eighteenth-century haunting, Silver’s obsession with inventing new scares meant the contraption in front of him earned a suspicious glance from a headless shade—the teacher—patrolling the classroom.
Seriously, how does she do that? Silver’s evanescent form rippled with unease. She hasn’t even got a face.
A chilling mist filled the classroom, and the commotion stopped. It was time for the test!
Silver floated higher, excitement flushing his form until his hands pulsed clearer. Embarrassed, he tried to calm down.
This time, I’ll show them!
Silver, determined to prove that a new method of scares was needed—living beings just didn’t scare easily anymore; they were numbed by scary movies—had failed this test several times already. The teachers just refused to accept change. Well, this was his last chance, or they’d send him to purgatory—doomed to wander as a shadow forever. He had to pass.
Silver’s body flickered to transparency, and his toothy grin flashed out of nowhere once more. This was his ultimate invention yet. He ignored the wails of a he-banshee and didn’t even peek when a ghost flooded the classroom with green, glowing goo (so cheesy 1800s era, he sighed). Instead, Silver flicked on the magnetic core of his equipment and stared at the shade teacher’s back.
Finally, the headless shade turned his way and blazed darker. It was his turn.
The magnetic core hummed, and fellow incorporeals scrutinised him. Silver ignored them, pale eyes eagerly watching the contraption. Come on! The shade teacher flushed darker, raising her arm to fail him.
Silver gasped as the machine sucked him inside and squished him through the helter-skelter of wires and pipes. His form stretched and split before being spat out in tiny pieces into an explosive display of scintillating flares and flowery ethereal fireworks that launched about the room and whizzed before the bewildered eyes of his classmates. Even the shade pooled dimmer at her base.
Books and pots crashed to the floor as parts of him shot into them, and a cacophony of noise and panic erupted as apparitions fled. When the space cleared, Silver willed himself back together with a pop and burst into laughter alone in the centre of the dark classroom.
His form had never glowed brighter.
Just when I start questioning my parenting, my daughter writes this bit for her “Free Write” assignment for high school and makes me misty eyed. “This is my dad’s piece and it has a lot of meaning to me. I used to walk barefoot to my dad’s studio that was in our backyard at our house in Toquerville. I had made a trail I could follow without getting any goatheads in my heels. I had walked back there and helped him create this piece, he’d allow me to do the bare minimum. I’d add the texture on the crabs legs and the dogs creases. My dad’s studio was one of my favorite places on the planet. It’s where creativity floated in the air along with tons of dirt particles. The ground was covered in dirt and snot from when my dad would blow snot-rockets. Everything was covered in red clay, including all the walls from years and years of my dad’s artwork being made. He had put up a surround sound for his music and he’d always have the Avett Brothers or Old Crow Medicine Show on, my childhood tunes. In the winter, I’d spray the fireplace that provided warmth and comfort, and it’d sizzle and smoke. I’d make my own artwork sometimes and I made money once during one of my parent’s holiday sales. I miss my dad’s studio and how it would make me feel. This piece of artwork with the crab and the dog is a representation of all the positive things that went on in that rundown barn my dad had turned into a studio, it’s the definition of my childhood. #fruitofmyloins #offspring #writing #art #fastfiction #words #sculpture #writingaboutart #curator (at Cedar City, Utah) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrEEYQsAT7b/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1r7r3iyt0tl7
Sea of People
In the sea of people, she found him and she can’t help herself but stare at the man she has loved. Their eyes met… the time slows down… the world mutes and all she can hear is him, calling out and her head leaping in every step he takes.In the sea of people, all she can see is him.He looks as dazzling as ever. His eyes are sparkling it put the stars in the night sky to shame.He is her favorite scenery.He smiled, so bright and beautiful. He’s coming near her.Her face heated up and she let out a loud breath for she cannot breathe anymore. Her heart is like a lion trying to get out of its cage.It hurts…It… hurts
She looked down, feeling tormented as he walk pass her like she wasn’t there. She knows this will happen but she can’t help ask “why does it feel like I’m being slapped by reality?” saying that she should wake up! For her dream boy is only but a dream.
Their eyes me… but you suddenly look away. Her time slows down… her world muted and he called out a name, a name that doesn’t belong to her.
She knows that he could care less about the beautiful rhythm that her heart is making because… he cannot see her.
He smiled at the girl as if she won the lottery.
Oh! I could give the world for that smile.
She turned around to see the scene that could definitely be the cause of her heart to break. Him, smiling so bright, and the girl, eyes the are shining. Priceless smiles,,, hearts connected… eyes locked to each other.
“What a picturesque!” she whispered underneath her breath for she cannot seem to talk normally anymore. She smiled and walked away with heart that is breaking and eyes showing sadness.
---------------
He watched her back until it fades in the scene.
“What could she have felt? Did she felt pain as she looked at us?” he wondered with guilt feeling his system.
He shake his head, “Probably no, because she doesn’t like me.” he thought. “She hates my guts. She hates the attention that she was getting. She hates his existence. She didn’t even bother to look at me when I said… goodbye.”
“Perhaps, this is the only way for her to be at peace.” He smiled sadly with that thought.
He hopes her to be happy now… for he will try to be happy with the girl beside her… now.
Sex, secrets and spies. Read the first Dominion spy thriller, Geneva Bound, now. https://t.co/Dbw12emhz8 Free on Kindle until the end of the weekend! #blackfriday #thanksgiving special on #fastfiction #amreading #thriller (at London, United Kingdom)
Get a taste of Bunny Comes First with this laugh-out-loud sample!
It’s panda-monium! Time to devour a plateful of impossible peril. Get Second Hunger free via Instafreebie: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/Idw7Y
Beakhead Books: Full-fat stories. Snack-sized Books. #fastfiction #treatyourself
