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Luke's Stories.

Jinno Shotoki 1339

Fable, Abstract and Non-Fiction
luke
0 comments
1 vote

A clown stares at a mirror. The mirror is seven metres away. The clown’s image is distended and stretched. It appears inhuman. His clothes are ragged and slashed, a misery lining his face. The mirror itself is cracked and crumbling. The clown holds his fears close and steps closer to the mirror. Perhaps he is now six or five metres away. Now maybe four. The reflection has fixed its...

The holy trinity I think

Abstract
luke
0 comments
1 vote

A parisian street scene blows a farewell kiss to your hero. He turns right, through a gate painted green, and disappears up stone stairs, worn slightly in the middle due to the tramp of years. Before he leaves the street, he glances up and down. Seeing you, he fixes his gaze for just a moment. In his eyes you see... He is mine also of course, hero that is. Why else I would not be writing this no...

Appliance babysitting

Humour and Abstract
luke
2 comments
4 votes

I am standing in the middle of my room or perhaps to the side or sitting in a chair and all around me whisper the sleeping murmurs of appliances. The mobile phone reclines on the desktop, nestled amidst a pencil case with a Santa design and protected by some empty bottles of red wine. It’s lights are off and it lies so silent and peaceful. Also on the desktop rests the laptop and it&rsq...

Expanse and magic

Fable, Abstract and Non-Fiction
luke
1 comments
1 vote

I read once that art is in the gut. Is that right? I dunno, this evening, it just sprung up on me, a fantastic breeze of a surprise. It swept with the woosh of full bodied air. I breathed so deep my lungs were bigger than ever and before I knew it I was full to the brim with art! It is and was thoroughly expansive. I’m sure it’ll be gone soon but now its coursing its way through my bod...

The old house and the spider

Fable, Abstract and Poem
luke
2 comments
3 votes

Clacks would crash through, with creaking age bearing heavy on beams and struts. Dust would swirl and rest, at mercy and whim of crack-borne gusts through worn brick and plaster. Dusk would come and go, with an evening caress felt only by slats and boards. It was a house of great-grandparents and time ticking slower than usual, of hearts trimmed to a beat a minute and memories in smoke stained cei...

Grieving 2

Fable
luke
3 comments
6 votes

Anal is what she always called me. For keeping a ‘space blanket' in the car. You know the things, silver looking that they give to marathon runners. ‘You won't need that thing' she'd say. ‘You're such a pessimist; have a little hope'. Bless her, she's not with us anymore. Gone last autumn. Might sound awful but I‘ve coped pretty well. Feet firmly grounded was alway...

Grieving 1

Fable
luke
4 comments
7 votes

There is a bath before me. A deep, metal beast with carved feet. I've just run it. I am back home, at my dad's place. Mum died yesterday. I travelled all night to get back here, a three hundred mile trip. Doesn't matter, this is where I want to be. Genie wisps rise gently and crowd the ceiling but there are too many; I always fill the tub too hot. I like to sweat, makes it different from a shower....

The Herb Planter

Fable
luke
0 comments
4 votes

My wife left me. Three years, five months ago today. Sure it sounds like a lot of time, but this is the sort of thing that fucks you up, you know? What, am I meant to just turn around and say ‘hey these things happen right?' Well, they don't. Not to everyone, not even to most; just the few unlucky enough to get stuck with a bitch like her. You might think this is the bit when I tell you it a...

Shibboleth

Fantasy, Horror and Fable
luke
1 comments
2 votes

Step into the court of confessions. The judge, myself; jury, myself; accused myself. But these aren't the proceedings of an official act. These are the marrow raw truths only alive when they tear themselves wet and visceral from my mind, jack the ripping their surroundings. Hope to come to terms without loss? That laughing precipice, that maw is saying "no"....

Swimmer and Jellyfish

Fantasy, Romance and Fable
luke
4 comments
4 votes

I tread water. I'm nowhere. I imagine the water I displace causing an effect somewhere else. Perhaps a ripple on a beach never before set foot on. Or a wave contributing to erode a granite face on an unthinkably minute scale. Maybe just a splash in the eyes of a swimmer.Above the water, there is nothing. Thoughts provide no resistance to uncracked silence or the sterile sky. Below the water is dif...