ezradeacon

If I were to tell you, "Life is not a bed of roses." Would you still continue To pull the weeds from beneath the rows? If I said, "There are some wounds that cannot heal." Would you still reach between the brambles And allow the thorns to pierce your skin? Were I to mention, "Even the brightest of flowers Will eventually succumb to time." Would you still cut the heads In preparation for the new spring buds? You simply smile and say; "Yes. For even the most vapid vine deserves to be cultivated. Only then can it bloom And truly enjoy its time in the sun."

Why won't the lights go out?

Sarah inhaled deeply and braced herself. Head down. Eyes in front. One foot in front of the other. Sage advice her father had given whenever she was anxious. She took one more calming breath, set her shoulders firmly, and turned the corner. The onslaught was immediate and almost caused her to turn and run in a blind panic in the opposite direction. Instead, she bit down firmly on her tongue (another trick her father had taught her) and strode headlong in to the maddening throng. The brightly coloured balloons and decorations glared harshly in the early morning sunlight, mocking her with their joviality. An assortment of clowns, animals and

Ellie hadn't seen her come in. Hadn't heard the tell-tale jingle of the entry bell over the diner door either. "She must have come in behind the two rednecks." she surmised and, grabbing her order pad from behind the counter, made her way over to the woman's table. Ellie flashed her a quick smile along with her standard greeting. "Evening Ma'am. What can I get you?" The woman looked up and Ellie was instantly mesmerized by the most dazzling blue eyes she'd ever seen. The rest of the woman's features suddenly came in to sharper focus, as though Ellie were seeing her for the first time. The woman's hair was jet-black and styled in a wispy-pi

Ray looked distastefully at the decomposing mess in front of him. He thumped three times against the back of the truck then hollered. "George! Get ya' fat ass back here! We got ourselves a situation!" George climbed out of the cab and lumbered his way around back, scratching his head in that dumb-moose way of his. "What kind of situa...?" He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw what Ray was referring to, a look of shock slowly spreading across his heavy-set face. "Ray! It's a ... It's a ... " George blubbered, his flabby hand flapping uselessly in the air. Ray reached out and gave it a quick smack, as if scolding a small child. "I kno

Hello Claude. I hope this letter finds you well. In fact, I'm certain it will. See, you've managed to escape my icy grip once again, Claude. And I'm not pleased about that. Not one iota. That's the third time you've cheated me this month. But I digress. I'm not writing this letter to chastise you, Claude. Not at all. In fact, if anything, I should be congratulating you. It's rare indeed that someone of your ... shall we say "intellect" ... one-ups the Grand Reaper himself. (And remember, not just once. Not twice. But three ... count 'em ... THREE times!) That's one highly impressive feat. But in all seriousness, Claude. How DO you do it?

Desperately seeking survivors. Safety not guaranteed.