01.31.13
Posted by mazzz in Leeds | 16 Comments »
There was no doubt about it – the oak tree was angry. It creaked and groaned and waved its branches though there was not even a whisper of wind. Taimi swore under his breath. It had to happen on his watch of course. And it had to be the oak tree, didn’t it – just for once, it would be nice if it was the willow tree that demanded his attention. He sighed. Still, there was no escaping it; he had to do his duty.
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01.24.13
Posted by mazzz in Leeds | 17 Comments »
Althea awoke one morning to find that she had dreamt of nothing. Not in the sense that she hadn’t had a dream at all or couldn’t remember that she’d had one, but rather that her dreaming self had spent the whole night in a completely dark space, doing nothing, seeing and hearing nothing. She found it a little odd, but thought no more about it until it happened again that night, then the next, then the one after that. At this point she was more frustrated than mystified – aside from anything else, it made for an excruciatingly dull sleeping experience. After it went on for two more weeks, she was at the end of her tether and decided to do something about it.
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01.18.13
Posted by mazzz in Leeds | 21 Comments »
He walks across the cemetery as he has done every Saturday at noon for the last year, a rose in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other. It is summer, and there is not a cloud in the sky. He feels the sun on his face and grimaces. It is not hot enough. Nothing is ever hot enough. He reaches the two graves and deposits the gifts he has brought – the rose for the woman, the chocolate for the boy – speaking their names as he does so. It is many months now since he last heard them speak back, but he intends to remedy this soon.
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01.10.13
Posted by mazzz in Leeds | 20 Comments »
It is a few weeks since Maurice’s banishment to the old world. Every night in that time he dreams that he is back in Tomorrow, only to wake up and find himself still very much in Yesterday. Each morning brings fresh pain as he despairs anew at his predicament, and this morning is no different. He crawls out of the makeshift tent he has set up, only a few feet away from the chasm that separates Yesterday from Tomorrow. The hideous underside of the Bridge between the worlds looms over him, its ugliness only serving to remind him how beautiful the Bridge is when viewed from a vantage point within the realm of Tomorrow.
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