The group "Censure" is not-so-loosely based on the hacktivist group Anonymous. This is how I imagined my meeting with one of the members would go. I wasn't sure about the story at first, but it's no as bad as I thought, upon second reading. Enjoy :]
"No, it is not easy to write. It is as hard as breaking rocks. Sparks and splinters fly like shattered steel." - Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
A Drabble
It's 4:30AM on New Year's Day and I'm still a little tipsy off of vodka shots and good conversation. But the cold woke me up and your words keep me warm and I don't know what to say anymore. That awkward moment when it's a new year and I'm the same old me. I'm still drunk. I'm in love with you. It's the holidays and the memories and I probably shouldn't tell you that right now. There are others, have been and will be, and I'll try. But you're you and I can't ignore that any longer. Break my heart; it means you care.
Labels:
drabble,
flash fiction,
friend,
holiday,
love,
new year's,
romance
Sunday, January 1, 2012
CP
In the alcove of the smoke-infested Medusa, over the din of mid-90s rock and pole-dancing Swedes, I had to let the prince down easy. His hand on my chest, both of mine on his shoulders, I pulled away and let him kiss my cheek, my neck, my hair. "I can't do this," I yelled in his ear, competing with Hoobastank for the prince's attention. "I know this usually works out for you - I mean, I figure - but I don't do this." He didn't stop, weakening my resolve. I hardly heard myself mumble a pitiful, "I'm sorry," around his lips on my own.
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