Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Fiction - the next continuation

Never have I seen such a beautiful yet ugly person. He smiled in a way that melted my heart.

"It is more insinuative if we head to my place so that I could get you something to munch on, I'm sure you're starving."

I just nodded in agreement without even thinking before making my decision. My mind was blank, he was just too astonishing. My eyelids couldn’t blink for time would be wasted if I had lost focus on him. I was still sitting on the beautiful body of the jungle with my body feeling awfully weak, weak in a good way that is. He offered his hand to help me get back on my feet and without any question; I grabbed it with all the energy left in my body. I would never want to waste that rare chance of touching his hand. He pulled me up and we started walking with a pace that was slower than a turtle’s movement. The awkward feeling was floating itself around on air. The atmosphere was too quiet that I had to spill a word or two.

“Do you stay here all by yourself?”

“Err yeah, I guess you could say so.”

I couldn’t produce anymore questions for the only thing that was on my mind was how gorgeous he is. He had taken away my professional skills at creating conversations with acquaintances. I used to be well known for that back when I was living my perfect yet depressing life. Time flew swiftly and there we were, at our desired destination. His hut was made out of wood that seemed to look as if it was aging really bad. My guess was that it was built centuries ago. It was the ugliest hut that I have ever laid eyes on. He opened the door that was by a few inches taller than he is and invited me in. His hut was nothing but cozy and decoratively furnished. That taught me to never judge a book by its cover. Quickly I was asked to sit by the dining table that only allowed two persons. He went to the kitchen and brought me some food. He served it on the table and took the only sit left. Due to the hunger I felt, I started eating vigorously that I made him chuckle. I was so embarrassed that I felt the blood rushing to my face, making me blush. I stopped eating and saw a glimpse of guilt on his face.

“I’m sorry”, he said.

“No, it’s not your fault, I just lost my appetite”.

“It is my fault, I shouldn’t have hovered and chuckled at you eating”.

“It has nothing to do with you, it’s just…”

BANG! There was a loud sound on the door. I jumped in shock. He had asked me to go under the table and not to make a single sound. He grabbed his sniper and slowly took a few steps towards the door. He then grabbed the door knob and twisted it carefully so that he could open the door without making that much of noise. As soon as the door was opened, a strong wind pushed the door really hard that produced a crack onto it. He had to bend his body so that he could gather the right amount of gravity needed for stabilization. There I saw a creature, as dark as ebony flying its way through. It was heading in Nick’s direction and my heart was pounding. I was afraid of the possibilities of Nick facing his death. From that statement, I could say that I had some weird feelings towards him. As he tried to pull the trigger….

To be continued..

Written by,
Juria Hartmans

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Ravenous Workaholic

Alright, so I was flipping through the dictionary and decided to randomly choose two not so common words as stated in the title of this story. So here goes....

Monday, Monday, Monday, some just despise Monday. They say dreadful torture begins, where great pleasure ends, rainbows turn into ebony. It may sound like a heavy accusation towards Monday from the perspective of a positive minded person but extremely normal to people like him. Working could be practically said to be his life. As his eyelids open in the A.M., he freshens up and off to work he goes. Hops into his wrecked vehicle and speeds up to 40 miles per hour. When he reaches his destination, he shoots off to his office or shall I say the postmortem department. He goes by the name of Tom Carter, the one and only who's in charge of the dead bodies. Everyday, he cuts them open to find out the cause of their death. At first, it was a terrible task but as time went by, he felt a wicked kind of pleasure to it. The smell of it satisfies him. Without another being's knowledge, he would take some of the organs and pack them home. He likes them being not so fresh and pathogens lying around. As soon as he reaches his filthy home, a place where no one would possible want to enter, vigorously he starts enjoying his meal. Sometimes he fries them but most of the time, he prefers them boiled.

To be continued...

Written by,
Juria Hartmans

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Farewell My Love

The sunset glowing with it's natural beauty,
I had observed as I was balancing myself on this rotten wooden bridge,
My opinion says that it was built last century,
My arms were stretched 180 degrees seeking for balance,
Gracefully the sky and I made eye contact,
It had orange and light blue painted on it,
Soon after, I realised that it was the most beautiful time of day,
It goes by the name of sunset,
It gave me peace and tranquility,
My only wish was to be on an island with him,
Not long after, I felt a triggering rush in my veins,
I was at last happy,
The next second, tears started rolling down my cheeks,
Should I have only noticed that I hadn't a lover,
No one to share a mat with on the beach,
No kiss to taste,
No breath to smell,
All I had was a picture, an empty picture that shared a million words,
The picture had an insane glow to it,
Due to my unconciousness towards reality, the picture flew away from the palm of my hands,
All good things do come to an end.

My bad attempt at poetry, doesnt look like a poem at all.