As Good as Finished_I Favour Rain_Psychic_Dream Spirit
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As Good as Finished
The door was open when she arrived, but Tobias wasn’t bent over his desk as usual. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight of his prone figure on the floor. Her eyes traveled from his clay encrusted boots, skimmed over his legs and jumped to his face—one arm covered his eyes. The rise and fall of his own chest started her breathing again. The slight rustle of her skirts as she knelt by his side was a whisper compared to the cacophony of the work site, but he must have heard her. A quirk of a smile pulled at his lips. “Come to gloat?”“Never,” she said. “I only wish you’d listen. Give your...
I Favour Rain
If someone were to ask me my preference, I would say I favour rain. Storms are better but far more rare and particular, so I would settle for the rain. It’s the sound; the gentle, rhythmic thrumming like white noise but more subtle. Thunderstorms are deeper, like the predatory sky is growling at the lighting prey it can never catch. I like the story of the chase, the slow purr prowling in the distance and the cataclysmic clap that splits the air; a frustrated cry of failure. I could sit and listen to the same tale every night if only the sky would read it to me, but too often I am met with si...
Psychic
Nearing the middle of town, stood the local bar known as The Raven. Around nine on a Friday night, The Raven would be the only business on main-street to be open. As the night sky dangled the stars upon the town and the clouds only partly covered the moon, I stood in a room, minutes before a performance. I studied my jotted notes and memorized the workings of my crew before the show. I needed to hype my nerves away. The key to any great performance is confidence. I allowed my pre-show chant to take control of my mind “1… 2… 3… and G… O… and GO…HERE WE GO!” I clapped my hands and rubbed them...
Dream Spirit
My ears rang at the sounwww.onedoor.ccd of the scraping metal and squealing tires. The pain in my right arm was unbearable. I crawled out from the driver side of my car and struggled over to the other vehicle. The man inside was older, easily older than sixty. I tried my best to find his vein, any vein, to see if he still had a pulse. I couldn’t reach any place where I knew a vein was, and cursing myself for my lack of medical knowledge, I tried to pull him from his laying position across the two front seats of his old truck. My arm hurt too much, and I was too weak to move him more than an inch. I attempte...