Today would be the last day in his dorm room. He had finished packing his stuff and would be leaving behind a bunch of old clothes that he wouldn’t find a use for. He double-checked to see if he was carrying his lucky shoelaces, the ones that earned him his nickname through college. He would have walked right into the course of a car and had tripped over the laces and fell down. It was a brush with death, but ever since then, life had turned out to be just like his nickname: Perfect. His photographic memory brought back traumatic moments from the past when he should have simply died but survived solely due to his perfect luck.
Something pulled him back to the moment. It was an unnerving feeling like the calm before the storm. His confusion was replaced by disbelief as he saw himself walk in.
Day 4: Theme: Imperfection, Style: Limerick, Device: Enjambment
The truth be said, there is only one who can be a model for perfection. I believe that would be nobody which will be accepted by everybody who is a part of this creation.
Nobody is indeed perfect something that we need to accept. But then what is the meaning of perfection – I find it exasperating that no one can find its value on the market.
How can the value be defined? It is something that can’t be touched with a kiss. Perfection can be defined in different ways: To each their own statement. After all no matter the name, a rose is a rose.
But as I said a few lines ago – isn’t perfection under nobody’s possession? Well, then who is this person? And how is this quality in their arson? Right now I have found an answer to this question.
You and I are the nobodies that the world has seen – we are the perfections that have been present right from the moment of existence to now, where we are our own sustenance.
Be you. Be unique. Be perfect. Be your own king or queen.
Day 3: Theme: Skin, Style: Prose Poetry, Device: Internal Rhyme
The moon felt sad about his bad face and asked the sun to share one of her rays. Soon it grew to be in a new phase And light filled its quiet rocky surface.
The little boy could never smile because he always thought that he was the ugliest person to live. He thought none wanted to be close as he was hideous and unattractive. He had often asked the doctor to help him out, and once the doctor had consented. Exchanging the pills for a wad of cash, to his home in excitement, he did dash.
Yet, the gorgeous moon was far from joyous A dark mark stayed on the Earth, which was mysterious. It projected him into guilt more than he expected and created a plan to work to help the dejected.
On his way he saw the homeless, begging for food and money. But he noticed that they neither had shelter or anything to call cosy. This brought tears to his eyes, as he felt him despise for himself. He chalked up a plan and walked up to the clinic again.
The moon bounced the light to the provinces that were dim So those in the shadow were thankful to him. He felt joy that made him melt, in which he started to swim He knew he should do more according to his prayer hymn.
The boy went back to the clinic and traded his money back for the graded pills. He got back to the sector of the poor and gave out the money, becoming a donor. He found joy, by spreading it. A pleasure he had been unaware of so far. He made the decision to take the action forward as he knew the God of this creation would want him to.
The moon soon disappeared to become new and about where it went no one knew. Till he eclipsed the sun, he did grew and the solar power did cry and raise hue.
The power of the moon was thus made known The sun cowered and was covered by the moon which shone His influence on the earth’s waves and ways are stronger It is the moon that is, to the earth, closer much like the boy who, as a better doctor became renown.
In essence, it is fundamentally, an existential question. I could say that it is to express myself which is an answer that many people are going to have. But there has to be something deeper than that. It doesn’t feel right if I talk about something I feel I am good at without it involving something special.
The old man stood as if he was confronting the headstone. The grave was of a girl who had passed away in her youth. Her name brought back memories that were stained with the pain she had wrought onto him. He remembered it like yesterday: her advances, his refusal, and the consequent betrayal.
A disclaimer: This is a purely fictional post. Partly inspired from Hamlet, though. Any other similarity with characters living, dead or created would simply be co-incidental. Point Included Later: And this is the first part of the series. The links to the next parts can be found below.
Thoughts of suicide have been haunting me for quite some time. Actually, I’ve been bringing those thoughts inside my head. Ever since I was framed for fraudulent practice in my institution. I have always been a high flier. But jealousy probably made her accuse me and get me debarred from the university.
Today’s Prompt: If you could zoom through space in the speed of light, what place would you go to right now?
Today’s twist: organize your post around the description of a setting.
I first think around of places I’ve already been to, which isn’t a lot. Apart from my home, hanging out with my friends in their homes there aren’t many places with specific memories attached. There’s school and college, which becomes a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Then there are places to which I’m bound by duty, such as banks and temples, and places like hospitals which I visit for emergencies. I have memories for each of these places, and in retrospect, they are the good-old-days.
The words of the prompt made me think of Superman, someone capable of just floating around in the upper atmosphere and maybe zooming around through space at the speed of light. The concept of nowhere as an answer to this prompt sounds cool. But then I think of Interstellar and Dr. Hugh Mann who abandoned the planet he was born on, the one he landed on, and the people who were there on both.