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About Literature / Artist Premium Member LJUnited States Group :iconword-smiths: Word-Smiths
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The Water

The Rocks


Critique "Like Math, but with No Numbers" You left no questions so I'll just give you my opinion about whatever strikes me. I don't think this story is too short or too long. It's just right. I like a story that presents word-pictures right away and doesn't spend a lot of time explaining everything....


Critique for "Um" You didn't leave any questions, and I'm operating on opinion only, but here we go into a short critique. 1. It's short because I see the need to advertise such a Society, excellently made into a business card that can go up on the 'fridge. I like the address you left for FB, and ho...


Artist | Literature
United States
The day he came home with blood on his shoes, he'd been gone for almost a week.

by leyghan
i met this guy called god. he sat next to me and my pint. he was gangly and wore a long beige bathrobe....

by JackDanielz
I declared love dead. There was a ceremony, and I did the obituary.

by neonxaos
The mountain is a pincushion for cactus.

by Nemonus
I looked through the sun and moon to find stars that were long dead.

by Angel-Violin
A fence is not a happy thing.

by PandaCat-Productions
Hey, have you seen my soul anywhere? I'm afraid I've lost it.

by TheOtherSarshi
Another star fell from the sky. I picked it up and put it in my pocket with the other seven I'd collected.

by TheSkaBoss

Thank you to all visitors and watchers. I notice you even if I don't find time to say so. :heart:

Help WantedFive months had come and gone and were ready to turn into six; Jerry Thompsen didn't think he'd be out of work that long after Aria was completed.  Every day was the same but not like it had been.  He still woke up at six in the morning but instead of going to the construction site, he made a pot of coffee, scanned the classifieds and wondered what else he'd have to sacrifice for the month so he could still make rent and eat.  Two months ago, it was his cell phone.  He was tethered to his apartment by a landline.  The cable and Internet were long gone.  He was slowly learning how to stop missing them and was embracing the tactile experience that went with reading books and newspapers again.  
He poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.  Sunlight had been streaming in for a while and the yellow-orange glow made the nook in his apartment look somewhat peaceful and healthy.  He defin
to rescue a flower.Our tennis shoes are crushing dandelions.
I save one fortunate soul from the masses.  You are crying, but I'm making daisy chains and daisy crowns and daisy necklaces.  I am pretending that they are earrings and smiles.  
It's funny what a simple smile can do.  It's funnier what all the smiles in the world can't do.
I don't know what you're thinking.  I don't know why I am oblivious.  I don't know why I'm apologizing.  You are mumbling about parallel lines and the sun is drying your tears.  I can't stop looking at you.  We are standing here and it's getting chilly and I am still braiding dandelions.
I put a crown on your head to show you that you're my king.  That I wish I could run off to Italy with you and tie ribbons in my hair.  That when I see grass stains on little boys' jeans, I think of you running in the rain.  That your smile haunts me when I close my eyes,
Tale 2: Worlds in the AtticHe was very old by now. His long, white hair, uncut for fifteen years, was loosely spread all over the back of his coat. His shoulders were brought forward by age, his fingers weren't as deft as they had been. If there was one thing he was very happy for, it was that when he had started, he had used the higher shelves first. It meant he didn't have to climb steep, uncertain ladders all the time now.
There were hundreds, thousands of jars and bottles and little tin boxes neatly stacked on the shelves, hung from the ceiling by thin chains or ropes, some small and precious glass containers brought together by ropes hanging from the ceiling like clusters of grapes or braided into garlic-like strands.
The man had wanted to be a writer, or a sculptor, or a painter, or some other sort of artist that could show all the worlds that lived inside people. A long time ago, he had understood the fact that he had no talent. It didn't affect him now. He was content to be nothing else but a keeper of w

the editorI make bad things go away.
Hit man? No, it's nothing like that. No, not organized crime. Christ, kid, where do you get these ideas? I bet it's television. Or those goddamn video games you people are always playing. What? So now I'm being judgmental? Do you know what I could do with one scratch of my pen?
No, forget it. I'm a little tired, that's all. It's hard work, you know. If you'd just listen for a moment, I'll tell you.
I'm a city editor. Not like newspapers, no. You have to train a lifetime to do the kind of work I do. And even if you do train a lifetime, not everybody's got the brains for it, you know? Imagination, that's what I'm talking about! You're young. You know imagination, don't you?
Now don't be stingy with the bottle. I know you were just going to spend the money getting…wasted is what you call it, right? Better I drink this poison anyway. You're not old enough to be ruining your liver.
Now as I was saying. City editor. You think it is about newspapers, hah! Shows
What Do You Think of Death?She stared at me.  "I don't think of it."
"Not at all?"
Her eyes crinkled, thin eyebrows meeting in casual thought.  "Well, sometimes."
"But… not often?"  I needed to know.
"No.  Not often.  Why?"  Now her eyes grew wide, eyebrows arching in provoked curiosity.
"It's not important."  But, having said the words, I found that strangely, terribly, it was.
"No.  I suppose not."  And her eyes closed.
I couldn't take it.  "But it is!"
"What is?"  Annoyance had crept into her tone, her sleepy pupils turning hard.
"Death! The eternal night! The end of… of… us."  My voice was desperate, my throat dry.
"Things end, dear.  It's part of being." She looked exasperated, turning to gaze at me even as she sunk back into the bed.  I was losing her, but she didn't notice.  All I could think of was the future, bleak in forecast and emp
Weather BalloonDale's hands were shaking so badly he could barely dial the phone.  
"Whiteman Air Force base.  How may I direct your call?"
Dale took a deep breath.  He had to sound calm, credible.  
"I just saw a UFO.  I mean, I'd like to report a sighting—"
"One moment please," came the reply.  No judgment, no surprise, no laughter.  Maybe they handled this sort of thing all the time.  Dale listened to military recruitment ads while he waited, which was good because it allowed him to organize his thoughts.
"Sergeant McMasters."
The voice on the phone sounded weary, world-worn.
"I'd like to report an unidentified flying object.  A machine, actually, hovering over my property.  It was circular, maybe 60 feet in diameter, and it emitted a blue glow—"
"Son, hold on a sec.  You saw a what?"
Dale sighed.  "A flying saucer.  I swear, that's what it was.  Hov


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Scarlettletters Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Professional Writer
Thanks very much for faving my work!
(1 Reply)
EhrenThibs Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014  New member Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Just wanted to thank you for the super kind donation. Also appreciate you visiting my profile, thanks so much!
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IrrevocableFate Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2014   Writer
(1 Reply)
LancelotPrice Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2014
And thanks for the new favourites. :nod:
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LancelotPrice Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2014
Thank you, LJ, for the devWatch. :)
(1 Reply)
Spiritofdarkness Featured By Owner Aug 15, 2014
:w00t: BIG thanks for all the :+fav:S :iconveryexcitedplz:
(1 Reply)
IrrevocableFate Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2014   Writer
:tighthug: Thank you so much, you are incredibly sweet. <3
(1 Reply)
Vigilo Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2014  Student Writer
I could have sworn I was watching you... :O_o:
(1 Reply)
hummbuzz Featured By Owner Aug 6, 2014
My sincerest thanks to you. :iconclearsunflowerplz:
(1 Reply)
Phantomtigers Featured By Owner Aug 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the favorite :huggle:
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