Lit of the Week Winners:
Aconitum-Napellus adalaine almcdermid andrewpom angeljunkie Avallynh AzizrianDaoXrak backbones vellusz beeinthebottle BeyondJen Blacksand459 bowie-loon123 brassteeth colbalt-rain CrumpetsHarvey CupofCharlie DearPoetry disrhythmic doughboycafe Drunken-Splice emilyericson EternalSunday Fleeting-Epiphany FuzzyHoser glossolalias gogocherryrose GothKoala439 gummyrabbit ingle-nook intricately-ordinary iPawed IyraEMM Jade-Pandora jswebb Judah-Leonardo QuiEstInLiteris KaitForest KeanuWantRoomService LaBruyere LiliWrites lizilicious lluviosa MattVoscinar momo-madness mystichuntress nawkaman neuroticmnemonic Nichrysalis Obsidian-Nightfall ohmistermagazine oracle-of-nonsense orphicfiddler Nichrysalis Phu-Phu-Hugs-Me pomohippie7 pseudometry Psyghostis QuiEstInLiteris Raaawrli RainyhawaiiV2 reflectionsinwater RestlessSands riparii RiseandBe rlkirkland Rosary0fSighs RussianTim ryante devsaartha: saevuswinds Sammur-amat Scarlettletters SilverInkblot ssensory starell That-Writer-Kid TheGlassIris TheGreatSpyExperim LeftUnfinished tonepainter toxic-nebulae travelgirlxx trembling-knees TristanCody Venry VicariouSoul Vigilo WetKakashi whatpumpkins winterkate witwitch your-methamphetamine ingle-nook zebrazebrazebra
Let's Never Meet Featured Writers:
never mindI guess it’s kind of funny, if you think about it. You always see in the movies – in the TV shows – people running and screaming and praying and stuff. That’s what Hollywood always thought it would be like. Some sort of ‘death cloud’ or something – or like an asteroid or something like that – that just happened: that just totally hit everybody by surprise.never mind by andrewpom
People have known about it for months. It’s not like in the movies. The word ‘inevitability’ comes to mind: and hey, guess what? Nobody cares to run from the inevitable. It’s pretty stupid – isn’t it, if you think about it – how people, in the movies, try to run from inevitable death. Everybody has decided what they were gonna do today weeks ago, maybe even months ago. Say goodbye to family, spend time with girlfriend, et cetera et cetera. As with the Kubler-Ross effect – or whatever it's called – p
Creepy-Crawl.When it rains, the snail comes.Creepy-Crawl. by Kurt-Jarram
And he tells unto me
all his gastropedal tales
from moss and rotted leaves.
He speaks of insect friendships
and also enemies.
“Beware,” he says “the centipede
and other vicious bugs
Beware” he says “Our cousins
Beware the shell-less slugs.”
“Be kind.” he says “And please leave
no salt on the kitchen floor
and, oh, would you please remove
those pellets from near the door.”
“My helix friend,” I say to him “Your words are truly wise.
A way for us to live in peace
I'm sure we can devise.
You, the noblest of bugs, who can neither bite nor sting.
I do declare your shell to be
the palace of a crawling king.”
When it's dark, the spider comes
and whispers in my ear.
How she, the arachnid garden queen
is hardly a thing to fear.
“Let me live,” she says “within your house's darkened halls
and silver tapestries I'll spin
to hang on every wall.”
She says “
Hey, Jealousyeyes cloud overHey, Jealousy by Cionie
and alcohol makes
what isn't "fair"
and a location shift
all is forgotten
the next morning
for fear of embarrassment
just a loosely titled "friendship"
swept under the rug
AnastasiaThe darkness in the morning first holds outAnastasia by LaBruyere
As fierce as night in triumph holds my soul
Hostage. I love stars for all their light
Hope comes in dawn to fill the darkest holes
And hollows in the universe. The morn
Shakes firmly out the tendrils of the night
And I am no less cleared of darkened mood
Than if my eyes were stars with paling light
Now lit with ember warmth and turned on high.
I leave my shaded, starlit bed and rise
Alive with hope as time brings forth the day
And dawn and joy both greet my tired eyes.
Lesser ExpressionsThis ache defines my body –Lesser Expressions by SilverInkblot
crosses, uncrosses my legs, traces
fingers along curvatures unmapped
by foreign travelers.
This want defines my time –
turns sleep into daydreams, matches
my schedule to yours, walking
beside, one shy footstep at a time.
This love defines my life –
shapes my body to be softer,
my time to be flexible, my heart
to be richer. The ache and want
become sharper, but calmed, content
in being lesser expressions
of something far greater.
Memories of a StrangerOnce, years after your death, I dreamtMemories of a Stranger by jswebb
out in the rippled heat of a neighbor's field
of all the arts men learn in a dead place.
See where the windows are boarded up,
see the light on the grass,
the one leaf burning, the cloud
to where the dry self burrows,
trying to rescue the thrashing.
They stacked logs in the resinous air,
on a floor of pine silt and spring mud.
At this hour, what is dead is restless,
a language of rhythm and breath,
torn, bruised, dream-slow—
the steep hill
that leads to a now-familiar place:
the rainbowed school,
one more day gone.
If the heart has its reasons, perhaps the body,
even when the sirens stop,
how still we stood!
the spine of the picked-clean story
The Cousin in New Orleans The Christian kids were following me long before I knew it. It's true that I was distracted by many things. It was my first trip to New Orleans (pre-Katrina) and I found it delightful. I rode the trolley, which made me feel like I was inside a giant pinball machine with all its bells and whistles.The Cousin in New Orleans by xlntwtch
Views of stately homes, hanging Spanish moss and green, green lawns completed the feeling of being in another realm. Well, I was in another state, having arrived from California about a month before. Before that, I'd been on the commune in Colorado, where I'd eventually return. But now I was in love with New Orleans.
I went often to the French Quarter to people-watch and listen to the music, all kinds of music. I never saw the other side of the Mississippi; it was foggy every time I tried. I also went to Tulane University, to sit in the student union and feel more at home.
Probably about now I should say I was under the influence
Root VegetablesMy biological mother’s name is Anna and my father is Peter. They met in high school when she was sixteen. He was her first kiss, I think. I’m not sure if she was his. At the time of my conception, they had known each other for two years. I don’t know why he was home from college in the middle of a semester, but I imagine that my mother was the light in the dark depths of February, I imagine it had something to do with her her thick curls, her hazel eyes, her tender mouth shaped just like mine, here. I imagine it was her laugh that he loved the most.Root Vegetables by bangingonkeyboards
My mother did not laugh when I came into this world and into her hands. She held me for seven long days with tears down her cheeks, her hands still and paralyzed with the weight of the decision before her. She loved me so much, I know. But at eighteen she wrestled with depression and anxiety that vined around her and settled stones into her belly where I had once grown. At eighteen, she held a child in child’s hands.
The Poet and The Philosopher“Am I real?”The Poet and The Philosopher by AyeAye12
“That’s a grand question.”
“And valid, considering the circumstances.”
“What’s your answer?”
“I thought you were the Philosopher here.”
“Are we not entwined?”
“Not necessarily. Unless that’s your answer?”
The restaurant was like the dress from a Klimt painting, stretching down for opulent floor after opulent floor. Sideway marble pillars stretched like a hand, into perfect fractals and then perfect foundation, in which walls of gold leaf and semi-precious mosaics curved into a domed cylinder. The dome itself was made of crystal, and the night sky above showed the light of its infinite stars shimmering, forever.
The crowning features of this restaurant (not named yet) were the colossal chandeliers, hanging from a massive screw in the centre of the dome above. Thousands of bulbs glowed like white-hot eggs, lining the sloping arches and curves of each ornament, before
The First Time I Saw Him Part 2‘I wanna fall in love, but all my tears have been used up on another love’The First Time I Saw Him Part 2 by CupofCharlie
- Tom Odell.
Despite the fact that I still felt ridiculously embarrassed, his words proved to be very reassuring and made me feel a lot less self-conscious. I felt very thankful toward him for that. My cheeks began to soften in colour; not quite the violent scarlet they had initially turned. I still felt slightly flushed, though I couldn’t quite explain why. When he attempted to keep the conversation going by asking my name, I couldn’t help but feel suddenly shy. I wasn’t sure whether he was just being polite or if he was genuinely interested in me. The thought that he might be interested caused my stomach to flutter ever so subtly. His mannerisms were all very laid back and casual – nonchalantly slipping his hand into his pocket for instance – but I couldn’t shrug off the feeling that perhaps he was trying to play it cool.
I cleared my throat before
Storm Music They say when I was first laid in my mother's arms, she gave me back to the nurse and said, "No. This is not a child of mine."Storm Music by xlntwtch
My father is the "they" I mean, the only one I heard tell that story. I guess he figured she meant it, because right away he took me as far from the Zuni reservation and my mother as we could get.
I don't remember being a little baby. I mean, who does? But I know my father drove his old car, with him and me and supplies, for miles and miles and miles. I hated that car. And he talked a lot, my Dad. He'd say, "Hey, freak. We're gonna cross a state line again. Mark it on the map." Or, "Hey, ghost boy. I gotta stop here for a few days. I'll set you up in a motel."
When my father said "set you up in a motel," he meant he'd get some half-drunk Indian to watch me, or more likely, to watch TV. He always went somewhere else. Some of those Indians fed me and some didn't, just like my father. I mean, it's like when I
Afterlife Astronaut“There is no God.”Afterlife Astronaut by AyeAye12
“Well, you don’t know that for sure-“
“Bernard, as an AI connected to every philo-science document, every parabyte of knowledge in the Human Empire, every logic string going back to the days of the Past Colonists... I can assure you, there is no God. It has been proven.”
Bernard sighed. His helmet visor fogged up then disappeared.
“I’m not going to bother arguing with you. Soon that golden gate is going to open, and I will walk into the Kingdom of Heaven. That should be enough proof.”
The gate in question was a smooth sphere of gold, slowly rotating on an equally dull pedestal. Crystal red spires pointed at specific points on the globe.
“You just don’t want to argue with me because you are in fear of how wrong you are. And how right a computer can be.”
Jude deserved to be muted, but sass like that always kept her voice a ubiquitous presence in Bernard’s helmet. A blue flash in the top
Let's Never Meet Anthology
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Alright, this is a tad bit late, but it's finally here! I know you were all chomping at the bit to get down and discuss this entire book. Spoiler warning if you haven't read it!
Speaking of prizes, the winner from June's Book DOWN A DARK HALL, is vespera! Congratulations for being awesome! PinkyMcCoversong will contact you about the prizes soon!
This month our prize comes courtesy of St. Martin's/Thomas Dunne Books! Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits by David Wong!
All you have to do to win is participate in the discussions in the middle and end of the month, reply to other people's comments, write reviews or fan fiction, draw fan art, or contribute to the activites! I'll be tallying up points and the person who contributes the most will win this month's prize!
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