Zillij*
He was working the clay, soaking it in water, making it soft. Preparing the base he would filter by hand. He knew his project would take months, but he had to do it. Surprise her. Win her father over. He had borrowed the supplies and the tools from his uncle, a maâlem**, who worked in a zillij factory in Fez. Continue reading
Purpose
Plodding down his daily route, he could feel the heaviness of boredom and solitude weighing on his limbs. Lately he had been contemplating his life and wondering how he had gotten there. Comparing his current situation to what his younger-self had projected his future could look like ten years ago. There was a world between there and then. Job – check. House – mmm… he owned a flat… semi-check. Athletic build – he exercised but was no model… semi-check again. Family – alien concept he still desired, but did not seem to have in him to construct. Wife – no girlfriend in ages. Marriage – felt more and more like a never-happening tale.
***
Keys turned in the lock. He walked in, and shed his coat and jacket in the lobby. Then he eyed his flat. Soulless, nude space, open lines, cold, empty walls, uplifted only by the view, and the grey light filtering through the high windows. The absence of decor mirrored the void he felt biting at his core. He needed something to counter its grasp, replace it with meaning, or deflect it with a placebo blend.
Instinctively, he sat down on his couch and switched on the TV. Hoping to be filled by others’ stories. Zapped from one channel to the next. Found nothing to his taste. He breathed in. The atmosphere was warm. Maybe too warm. He needed air. Fresh air. He got up, slid the glass door, and walked out on his balcony.
Dressed only in his classic, matt, silk shirt, he braved the negative temperature, resolutely. He looked out over the lake and to the horizon. He needed to feel something. Gushes of frozen winter wind slapped repeatedly at his skin. He could sense his body shrink and shiver in the cold. Still he stood there. Unwavering soul lost in his thoughts. His perspective felt blurred. He needed focus.
***
Johan knew he needed to act – turn his ways around, because they were not working. If he stayed there watching his life pass him by, he was aware he would disappear. Shrink into oblivion. Be deleted, erased. Leave nothing behind him upon his passing. Drown into the mass of loners out there. Continue reading
Talaria*
That was the second time, Timothy walked in this place. It was a case of love at first sight between the man and this hotel. He had not needed many visits to sign the deeds. Just one look and he was all in. That did not happen to him very often, so he had just indulged in the extravagant impulsion. Continue reading
The Twitch
“What is the worst that could happen? Tim 2.0 is monitored by an external server 24/7. His software is connected through a private line to this little remote system control in the lenses I am wearing. You can’t see it, but Tim’s frontal cameras are linked to my own neural pathway. Everything he sees, I can see as well. It is like I have a tiny TV playing in the corner of my eyes at all times. It felt weird at first but I got used to it. That is how I could develop all those beta testing protocols. Tim 2.0 is blunder proof.” Timothy assured. “Nothing can possibly go so wrong that I could not handle it.”
Just as Tim uttered those words, Leia interrupted him. Continue reading
Transient Affections
He did not know what he wanted. He did not know what to do with his life. He felt like he was constantly watching time flutter and dwindle by, unable to grasp the flow of emotions repeatedly taking over, leaving his heart stranded on the shore. He would feel rinsed a few days after having reached climax and crumbled all the way down from there. He was watching others take action. Gripping their lives by the collar, making something out of them. Moving on to the next base. He could not. He lacked those strong convictions they all held on to.
His will was not strong enough to handle the constant ebb and flow of people walking in and out. His curiosity was strong. His sense of attraction, wildly hyperactive. His heart butterflied its way from one woman to the next – feeling strongly, over and over again, that each new flower he met could be the one. Until he caught a glimpse of something in them, something he did not find so fitting after all. Then he would hit reset and look out for the next. Showing his fleeting flings the way out of this life, as readily as he had welcomed them in. Continue reading
The Scent
Whenever she passed by, there was this scent around her. She smelled like a meadow in spring – field flowers, tender earth and moist grass. Everything about her was refreshing. There was the way she walked – like her body bore no weigh at all. The way she smiled – like every person around her was dearer to her than the next. The way she talked – effortlessly. Each word out of her mouth felt like part of a song – her voice so soft, her tone so tender, her words caring, taking everything around her into account, before she would utter any sound.
I admired her with every fibre of my being.
Everything came so easy to her. It did not to me.
I wanted to be her. I wanted to be with her. I was not sure at all what I wanted exactly. All I knew was I did not want to be me. Being me meant I could never be her. Nor could I ever be with her either. Continue reading
Roller-Coaster
She sighed at the sight of him. He tried to grab her hand. She dodged his attempt and pulled away. He had betrayed her.
She never asked him to be perfect. Not even kind. All she wanted from him was honesty. Knowing he would never lie to her face.
Even that he could not hold up to. He had lied – over the stupidest thing too. She could not begin to understand why. When she had asked…
Not only had he sunk further into his tangled web of fibs, he had accused her of doing the same. How did he dare pin it back on her? – Dumbstruck.
She stood there for a moment. A few feet away. She could still hear his voice spinning more lies to try and fix his mess. She could feel the pain in his voice…
…Read the despair in his eyes. The disappointment in hers spoke louder than words. She had trusted him. She did not anymore. There was no way back from that. Continue reading
Jordan
by Hailie Andersen
He did not believe in love at first sight. That was before he met her.
He was sitting at his desk. His face buried in his hands. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. He had been trying to hide his sad state of mind from his coworkers. Trying too hard to keep those feelings bottled in. How could everything have gone so wrong? He was playing and replaying the day in that thick head of his, but none of it made sense.
***
All he wanted to do was help her, protect her. All he ended up doing was to tear her heart apart. He looked back at this whole mess, trying to pinpoint when it all went out of hand. Then it all came rushing back to him. Not the dark times, but the great ones.
***
He remembered how he felt the day he first laid eyes on her. He fell for her on the spot. Her shiny black curls cascading on her shoulders, she was wearing an empire white dress with large strokes of forest green paint printed on it. They formed abstract patterns reminiscent of spring and flowers. Continue reading
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Jo1 – Goodbye World
5:00 PM – three hours prior to decommissioning
Resting in foliage shadows, I contemplate the day I have had and what I could do of my remaining hours. I went hiking with my brother – we climbed up to lake Critol. I called my sister and my best friend. I had a great laugh with both of them.
Today is the last day of my life. I was programmed to be decommissioned now on the day I was born. We all are to some extend – Humans or Machines. Though I doubt it would feel the same not to know when your lease on life expires.
In the end, I opted to just lie down there, in the grass, enjoying the piercing rays of sun warming up my stainless steel cells. I figured that was the best way to go. Lying there basking in delight, without a care in the world.
***
6:00 PM – two hours prior to decommissioning
Today – and every day since I was born – I have lived my life to the fullest. I lived it that way, because I knew it would end soon, precisely when the timer on my neck would stop. This also meant I knew that it would not stop any other time – unless I threw myself in front of a moving train or something violent enough to damage me beyond repair.
Lizzie – my best friend, the one I called today as I mentioned above – is human. She is torn about my upcoming scheduled unplugging. She wasted weeks, months of her life in lawyering battles trying to get Machines to gain a longer timespan. She thinks twenty years is way too short.
In exactly two hours someone will press a key and send my consciousness back to the stream of data that gave it birth. It will merge with the rest and be a particle in this giant AI pool.
*** Continue reading
Poetic Armour of Genres
There isn't just one side to a story. They outnumber us. Stories and ways to tell them are infinite.
Motivate | Inspire | Uplift
Mrs. Mason ~English Language Arts
Amit Rahman
Living life like there is a tomorrow
Mug's Tale 