The Dream WhispererThe Dream Whisperer There is nothing in the world so devastating, so cruel, as the loss of a loved one. Many try to cope through religion, through relationships, through their own pain. Many do not know how to cope, or simply find themselves unable. So many whispers in the dark, unanswered pleas, prayers, tears in the night where no one can see them. No one, that is, but I. I hear these whispers, these prayers. I hear these cries for comfort, all the short messages whispered above tombstones that fall on deaf ears. I see the tears that fall from the faces of every man and woman who have grieved beyond conceivable grief. I aThe Dream Whisperer
On the LedgeOn the LedgeOn the Ledge
It was during the twilight hours of one fateful night that a man slowly approached the ledge of the unfinished building that jutted out over the dark street, facing the river. The man stopped a moment and stared at the stars that were beginning to show against the already velvety black sky. He watched them flicker in the heavens, his gaze encompassing each and every one across the dark terrain. So many stars, some brighter than others, some barely visible, some lost in the swallowing blackness. How like people they were, the millions spread across a vast expanse, swirling together in an intriguing pattern, an endless
voicesThe man and woman sitting in chairs in the small office watched as the tall thin woman in front of them walked quickly over to the television in the corner and inserted a small black tape. “Most of the footage from your hidden camera was lost in the fire. Clearly she knew it was there. This is the last of the videos we found.” The woman sitting in the chair leaned against her husband and began to sob quietly. The woman stared at the pair grimly for a moment, then pushed “play” on the TV and returned to her desk, where she leaned quietly while the video began. A little girl appeared on the screen. She was sitting in a chairvoices
the soldier in the graveyardThe Soldier in the Graveyardthe soldier in the graveyard
The day loomed grey and lonesome as the old soldier pulled open his curtains. He stretched, yawned, and hauled himself out of bed for breakfast. He took a shower, as usual, brushed his teeth, combed what was left of his hair, and got dressed. Before he went downstairs, he looked at himself in the mirror. What he saw was a tired, careworn face, full of lines and wrinkles. His appearance saddened him, but the most worrisome things of all were his eyes. They held a tired look, as if they were masking all the cares of the world. The once lively blue color they had held had faded to a pallid grey, al
i love u!!
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"There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit down to the typewriter and open a vein."
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"Life has to be a little nuts sometimes. Otherwise it's just a bunch of Thursdays strung together".
"It doesn't matter what you care about as long as you care about something" (Tim Burton)
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