by Hailie Andersen
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
There is this part of your heart
I never see open
Closed up to all
It never sees the light
Ceased to exist the day
Your heart broke
Never to be fixed again
I wish I could turn back the clock
Make you whole again
I wish I had never uttered the words
I did that day
I wish I had never hurt you the way
I did that day Continue reading
Texte original écrit par B.
Chapitre 1 – Prémisses
Ils montèrent dans la vieille 305 qui allait les conduire lentement et sûrement à la villa abandonnée que Lina avait repérée une semaine plus tôt en faisant des recherches pour son documentaire. La jeune femme était surexcitée à l’idée de braver cet interdit. Elle aimait par-dessus tout résoudre les mystères, découvrir les nombreuses histoires qui imprègnent toujours l’atmosphère émanant des lieux anciens. Elle avait lu toutes les dépêches qu’elle avait pu trouver dans la presse, tout ce qui expliquerait le destin ruiné d’un bâtiment qui portait en lui tant de promesses à sa construction. Elle s’apprêtait à conter l’histoire ainsi rapiécée à Jean au fur et à mesure de leur progression dans l’immense demeure. Le script naîtrait au fil de leurs pas et ils partageraient encore une aventure de plus. Continue reading
by Hailie Andersen
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
Texte original par Ninefifteen
Dans mes veines c’est de l’encre qui coule
Et mes doigts sur votre peau
Esquissaient des étoiles ;
Et celles qui à cet instant
Brillaient dans vos iris
N’auraient su mentir… Continue reading
by Hailie Andersen
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
He was walking down the street.
Preoccupied with the day he had just lived,
His stream of thoughts was punctuated by numerous questions.
One could read on his face the scars,
Red seals patching up his trampled heart. Continue reading