Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The couple.

She wasn't beautiful, she didn't have long flowing hair or fair skin or eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. She was just her, but he couldn't see that. Not in the poetic sense, he was physically blind. 100% blind since he was a baby, he'd never seen anything but black. he relied on a walking stick, seeing eye dog and people's descriptions of things.
She had described herself to him using every ideal she wished she was, she was slim and willowy with long blonde hair and bright sparkling blue eyes and he drank in every word. They would spend hours lying together in the grass holding hands talking about whatever. Just enjoying the long summer days, ignoring the oppressive heat of the city. They got along so well and they were soon almost inseparable.
One day while they were lying together in the park he began to stroke her head and said; "I love you beautiful, I can't see you, but I know that you're perfect." Her eyes began to well up as he continued; "I wish I could see you, that's what I wish most, my dream is to wake up in the morning and see your face lying there next to me." She couldn't take it, she began to weep, right there in the park, snot and mascara running down her face, which became swollen and distorted from so much crying.
He sat up immediately trying to console her; "baby whats wrong?" He said; "talk to me, what's the problem?! Please is it something I said?!"
"No." She said calming down; "It's me, I don't deserve you, I lied to you, I'm not beautiful, I'm not perfect, I'm just me." She said staring off into the distance. He sat up trying to look at her, but staring somewhere above her head; "I don't give a shit what you look like, I can't even see you, all I know is that I love you and that's all that counts for me, that's all that should count for you too."
"Yeah, well you'd feel differently if you saw me." She said in a flat tone and she got up and walked away, ignoring his desperate panicky calls for her to comeback. She never saw him again and spent the rest of the summer posting angsty GIF's on Tumblr.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

The end.

The younger man was breathing hard, it took quite a bit of effort the kill a man with an axe thats been dulled from cutting wood for such a long time. After a moments rest the younger man stood up straight, changed his clothes and washed his hands. He covered everything in gasoline and left without another word tossing a lit newspaper behind him without looking back.
The house burnt down, along with all of the contents inside including its late owner and the piano bench, both just fuelling the fire and burning up with whatever secrets or explanations they held.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The storm.

One day there was a terrific storm, the man who was not so young anymore was spending the time trying to ride out the storm sitting on his piano bench trying to play the keys in a way that would make the keys dance like they used to but all they would do was lament. After a few attempts, he gave up and sat in silence listening to the rain pound against the window and the wind howling at all corners of the building. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. He looked up with a start; "Who could be coming around at this hour?" The older man thought, the knock sounded again, more powerfully this time. The man rose, with some difficulty to answer the door. When he opened the door he almost collapsed when he saw the face waiting for him on the other side, slightly older but still the face he had loved dearly and the face that hated him so deeply. How could such a beautiful face carry a look of such hatred and anger?
The young man on the other side of the door pushed past the old man out of the storm and into the building. He turned around and faced the old man; "Its time you get what you deserve you sick bastard" he screamed as he stared at the old man and started towards him. The old man realizing what was happening began to back away but it was too late, his eyes began to well with tears, tears of sadness, regret and fear. Why him? Why must he have been born the he had? In his hast he tripped over the piano bench and fell to the floor, as he landed the young man raised an axe above his head and let it fall upon his victim, the old man didn't utter a word of protest and all that could be heard was the dull thud of the axe and the grunts of the young man, it took 27 blows from the axe to asauge the young mans anger, though the man was dead after 4.