#tiny prose

[littlescaryinternetguy]

There is not enough written about the art of tinies. Tiny art. Tiny music. What sort of music do borrowers play? Do they even play music? Or, since they have been living unseen and unheard by their larger cousins for generations and centuries and millennia, is their music a music of rustles, of soft winds over surfaces, pianississimo? Do fairies paint? Do pixies sculpt? Do tinies write? They must. What would it be like?

[murtahg]

There is thunder in my mouth; a dragon perched upon my tongue, dripping with a shipwreck. I have eaten everything that failed to destroy me.

// i am the iron dragon, which no sword can undo //

[murtahg]

There should be a special word for us--daughters of Thor, girls named after thunder and storms. We are shaped and changed, trained and molded by our namesakes. Our lives are lived with a ferocity that shakes mountains, and a bravery that should make our gods smile.

“i was lightning before the thunder”

[itsyueko]

concept (for her): Sent: 00:24 Subject: how long are you going to stay mad? ... message is read. one phone call. one voicemail. a couple of emails. take the keys, drink water. lock the house. drive up to mine. you're safe. eyes to mouth. light touches. your clothes sprawled with mine and making friends with my wooden masonry floors. our nail beds loud enough to wake up the neighbors. your face, your mouth, your hands-- they never left.

[opalsinearrings]

the sun poured through my window and made me homesick for summer.  the furnace aids in the misrepresentation of truth, but i am too stubborn for sleeves, and so i cannot feel my fingertips.

[merryburningparty]

You're a real person when you sleep, when you dream. Not when you act. When you act, you're playing a part.

[wonderlemon-blog-blog]

minuscule thoughts

I could never be quite sure where his mind

wanders once away from my own bedspread.

Though I know he's otherworldly, too kind.

I have seen words never meant to be read.