August 10, 2020

Posts from "Portfolio"

  • Portfolio | Nov.30, 2011

    Silhouette

    Your shadow dances in the moonlight

    A silhouette, form where there is nothing

    Is this what’s left of us?

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  • Portfolio | Nov.30, 2011

    The Shoes She Wore

    The shoes she wore were tan and thick-strapped, the kind you would see your grandmother wearing to the grocery store. They were comfortable, and for Lana, comfort outweighed the pressure to conform to the thin-heeled, pointy-toed monstrosities that her friends insisted she wear.

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  • Portfolio | Nov.17, 2011

    A Time To Come Home Again

    I pulled my scarf tighter around my face with one hand and clutched my small duffel bag in the other. The November wind shot against my skin, pricking goose bumps on my legs and arms even though they were covered by multiple layers of clothing. The parking lot was just across the frozen dirt of the quad, and my boots tapped briskly against the hardened ground. As I unlocked the doors of my car and put my things in the trunk, I noticed how empty the campus was. The once-full parking lot only had a smattering of cars left in it, and the grid of yellow lines looked strange and spread out.

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  • Portfolio | Nov.02, 2011

    The Poet

    Once upon a midnight dreary, whilst I flew so weak and weary

    Over many strange, deserted places never seen before,

    I had such an urge for napping, I grew weary of my flapping.

    So I sought shelter, and went flying headlong towards a chamber door,

    Just a visitor, searching for shelter at a chamber door,

    Only this, and nothing more.

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  • Portfolio | Nov.02, 2011

    Missing from the Laboratory (Part 5)

    Sophia sped down the busy street and Henry reconsidered letting her drive, but then he remembered he didn’t know where they were going. He had tried to get her to explain what was going on ever since they left the police station, but she just kept saying he would understand everything when they got there.

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  • Portfolio | Oct.27, 2011

    Metal and Knives and Everything Nice

    She couldn’t move. The wet floor soaked through her pants and wracked her body with cold, but she wouldn’t allow the muscular spasms to take place. In the dark, she couldn’t see the long metal daggers that were welded onto each surface of the closet, but she knew they were there. Shivering would surely invite one of the rusted tips into her pulsing white skin, swapping death for life. She wasn’t sure what would get her first, the unstoppable rush of blood from her veins or the infection that laced each spike. She had to get out of there alive.

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  • Portfolio | Oct.27, 2011

    Missing from the Laboratory (Part 4)

    The slow shuffle of footsteps echoed in the room. Henry froze. If someone turned on the lights, he would be a sitting duck. A shiver went down his back; he realized Sophia was sitting alone in the parking lot. What was he going to do? He was lying next to a dead body and the murderer seemed to still be there.

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  • Portfolio | Oct.27, 2011

    Silhouettes

    Cataclysmic centerhold

    Keeping all horrors from Bethlehem

    How long, how long

    We stared at the sun

    Tossed and spun

    In our little steel snuffbox

    Twisting gently in the radiant heat

    Posing for the sculptor time

    Flaking, peeling

    Wilting like petals in late spring

    We stared at the sun

    Great fusion rampant

    Ember lambent

    Glare of glares

    We stared

    Choking on keratin

    We were mostly silhouettes

    Staring at the sun

    Till we burned to ash.

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  • Portfolio | Oct.20, 2011

    Missing from the Laboratory (Part 3)

    Brad was lucky to be alive. Sophia ran experiments on the chemical they found in the car, and discovered that it was hydrogen sulfide gas. The gas was at such a high concentration that just breathing it in a few times could have been fatal. The gas was also extremely flammable, and one turn of the ignition would have caused an explosion. Sophia knew what this could mean. Joe might not just be missing; he could be dead….

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  • Portfolio | Oct.20, 2011

    From the Moon of a Gas Giant

    Black orb over the waterfall, Black mast, slim and tall; White ship, sails dead, White birds overhead, The bright star watching everything And a great tree over me. I sat beneath the arbor grand, Black reeds in my hand And I, upon the satellite— Black orb, pulling through the night Its precious cargo, green and fair, And I, a tiny freckle there, Along for the ride.

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