Satin shimmered by in blues, reds and pinks
Their eyes were hidden by white masquerade masks
Perched atop majestic white stallions in various stages of standing and sitting
Reminiscent of expert circus performers
Yet the aura of something super human, was felt
A strange wave of soothing warmth pulsed in the air
Looking forward with a laser focus
They looked at nothing and no one but the road ahead.
-Woken by my own laughter as sunlight streamed through the curtains. My friends would not be dressed up in sailor moon costumes riding on horses in the countryside in real life 😂. Ridiculous. Okay maybe they would be in costume just not on horses too LOL. It was like a procession. The sailor scouts also don’t wear masks. Only sailor moon’s boyfriend does!
If you’ve woken up with tears spilling down your cheeks, remember the dream that made you wake up laughing.
Every single time. I never fail to stop and wonder, if it will ever find it’s way home.This city or somewhere far, far away. If it opens something small and locked away or the door to a big beautiful home. Laying there on the ground,in the freezing cold or the blazing heat. If the owner knows it’s no longer safety nestled in their pocket ,but out here. All alone and waiting.
What am I?
It’s Sunday morning. You’re ready for a relaxing day at home but you realize that you’re all out of coffee. You take a quick trip to the grocery store, and while you’re in line to check out, someone comes up behind you and points a gun at the cashier. “Stop what you’re doing. Give me all the money in the register.” What do you do? Do you run or do you stop the robber?
“Give me all the money or I’ll fucking kill you.”
I see the glint of the gun as I am about to place a bag of frozen rice cakes on the conveyor belt. The young cashier girl’s eyes widen with fright. I turn and see the man. His face is flushed like a rotten tomato on a sweltering day. Sweat is beaded on his lined forehead. There is rage in his clouded unfocused eyes. It looks like rage at the world. The man continues to scream and gesture at the cashier girl with his gun. Big fat tears roll down her cheeks. His yellowed sweat stained t-shirt is in tatters.There are track marks all over his arms. I should be scared. But I don’t feel fear. I feel bad for this man.
Desperate for funds to get his next fix. Just a shell of a man who’s only purpose has been reduced to getting that next high. A slave to drugs. The man turns his attention to me and keeps cursing. I can’t believe this is happening. All I wanted was to get some damn rice cakes to make dukbokki and some coffee. He lowers his gun to his side. Just as I am about to answer with some curses of my own, a burly shopper smashes a jar of pickles onto the back of the robber’s head. The robber crumples to the floor in a pool of pickle juice and glass shards. Those pickles look crunchy. They’d go nicely sliced up as a side ,to the dukbokki. I headed to the pickle aisle.
Disclaimer: Fiction LOL