WordsFromNowhere

The gold and copper of fall dapple the long leaves of black trunked trees which cover the green, fuzzy earth in a thin carpet of uneven speckled coloration more beautiful than any painting. No sound could break this barefooted boy’s peace as he finds himself travelling the grounds in the wake of the dawn’s first light and fresh dew on the cool grass. He can’t remember this land ever being cold enough for winter or his mango trees’ leaves ever turning gold or orange anytime of the year.   No peace is ever permanent, told true by the sound that shatters the perfect dawn. He turns, sees no one. Nothing but more gold and h

 Even the fifteenth trip through the steel doors to the execution hall would excite him beyond reason. He pondered what inhumane methods they would try this time around. They were getting better somewhat at restraining him: platinum cuffs, magnetized boots and a carbon fibre straitjacket; impressive at the least. Even though he'd found the loose thread in the layers of polymer that would be its undoing, he thought it would be fun to see what awaited beyond the 'gates of hell' as he liked to call them. Two massive, muscle-bound guards half-dragged him through the silent hallways of level C in the sector they had made just for him. They arrive

Dearest Eugene,                           I'm sorry to send this so late, but I need to tell you something--something more important than anything I've ever told you before. What I need to say to you, I can't tell you in person-I just can't. I'll have to write it to you instead. I've never been much good with words but I will try,  for the sake of everything I've shared with you over the many years I have been your neighbor , your friend and your lover, the last for however briefly, does not diminish how valuable that time was. What I must impart to you first of all is that everything's already been decided and that won't change. I can't c

If it wasn't for the Factory, we wouldn't have to run and hide like criminals, I might be able to sleep without the screwed up nightmare where everyone’s dead and my hands are covered in blood again and again… maybe Garth wouldn't be so serious all the time except when everyone else was asleep and we were practically alone. Then again, if it wasn't for the Factory, I might not exist. Overthinking was always my forte. Eventually, we will have to go back, even though Raine and Garth won’t tell the kids yet, we all know it’s only a matter of time. We weren't the only ones they had in there, we weren't even the strongest;

After running for as long as I've ever run before, we sought refuge in an empty building condemned for demolition. After weeks of running and at one point, flying, we were finally far enough from the Factory that sleep was a luxury we could finally afford even in the conditions we had now. Of our motley crew of runaways, Raine acted as a mother to the younger escapees even though she was barely six years older than me and seven years older than Leah. I shared a makeshift bed with her, Leah. Tall, dark-skinned and beautiful beyond belief with a smile as bright as white fire; a smile I hadn't seen since the persecutions began. After we made ou

The devils mock and you lead, Their approval is what you need, You spurn us for our love of sameness, But you are one of us; this curse, you hold this. When away we are, no devils call, Angels free, no sadness here, you're not appalled, End is soon to our peace, shackles you don, Bonded to lies and falsehood you are again gone. The words sting as a whip's lash, Your touch could not soothe this rash, These scars won't heal, your choice is made, With devils and men may you lay. "She was never one of us, she was hateful," Spiteful of self, do the lies not hurt? And what of tears that run in solace, When you break and shatter, you

The walls in here are paper-thin; I can hear them outside, they're coming for me, they want to take me back. They call with sweet voices, faking sadness. They want to hurt me like they hurt my brother. They made me cut him. There was red, so much red, everywhere. He stained my hands. He's still with me, brother leads me. They killed brother, they stole him from me. They stole him with a knife. Where's the door? Where to hide? He told me to come here, how do I get out? Did he lie? No no no no... he never lies. He told me about them, they want to hurt me. You can't see him, he speaks to me, in my mind-Brother found me -------------------------

They swarmed over the marketplace,like hive locusts to the fields, trampling carts and shoving indiscriminately. He ran hard, his spindly legs pumping the pavement. The boy was quicker than they were, diving over crates and scaling stalls to reach an awning, he pulled himself up and stepped cautiously toward an open window. He gripped at the yellowed bricks for dear life before pulling into the empty bedroom. He burst through the doorway into the hall and tore down the steps into the lobby of the brothel. He pushed his small body past the false geisha and out of the door, back onto the street. His too-big sandals slapped at the ground as he r

Crow Bridge was the oldest, creakiest bridge in this city of rivers. Decades ago, it was deemed 'unfit for heavy machinery' and closed off to mechanical traffic and became a foot path over the narrow stream below. The city council claimed that it was 'an historic monument' and so refused to do any heavy repairs on the assumption that it would 'denounce the authenticity of this historic and important bridge' which was just a long winded political way of saying they didn't want to fix something nobody needed. It wouldn't be true to say that no one at all needed or used the creaky wood and stone structure, there was still one, and only one per