Intrepid Meets the Kraken

Three years of fixing, and the ship

Intrepid readied for

Arrival in Manhattan, tip

Top shape. And fast she came

Remembering the war that brought

Her glory brightened pain.

She set to open once more thought

At Sea, Air, Space dock lane.

 

Intrepid sailed into the bay

With her stern sky-scraping

Then water crashed about with spray,

Long tentacles teeming

With jeweled water, saying his

First name was Grackle, but

One could announce to masses as

The Kraken, Grackle. Cut

 

The ribbons! Sound the music for

The Celebration! Yes,

Expect the Kraken at the door

Of our new show: U.S

Warships in Kraken-Great Squid War

Of Nineteen-Forty-Eight.

And Grackle as the show’s new star

Buy food and bring your date!

Floating Fish

A floating fish is eating my head

You don’t believe me

You say? Ask Fred;

He’d tell you of the one, two, three

Floating fish munching my skin

Giggling, screeching, stabbing

My mind with their fins…

What! You don’t see seeping

Of my brain dripping into

Their eager mouths that eat

My last thoughts feeding who….

Wait, I forgot, isn’t it neat?

Fine! Go away!

And take your floating fish with you!

One poke is all it takes....

The wall stared back at him, white and empty. He would've killed to see a picture on that wall. Anything he would've preferred to sitting there on a cold table with nothing to serve as a buffer between his legs and the steel but a thin pillow and sanitary paper. Ugh, sanitary, it made it sound as if he had the disease already. Oh no, he couldn't be that fortunate. They told him the shot beat the alternative. Pfft, how did they know? Did they ever catch it? Greg seriously doubted it.

They, the nurse and the doctor, crowded around him as if had the words "wild animal in need of cornering" on his back. He thought one person might've sufficed. One stepped beside him, and Greg found his view of the wall blocked by a lab coat. Suddenly he missed the comfort of the wall, at least that didn't make him feel awkward.

"Ready, Gregory?" The doctor asked with a seemingly mocking voice.

Greg sighed. Would he ever feel ready? The last time...his arm hurt for a week, a week. That's a week of missed guitar practice, missed drinking blended coffee drinks while reading the paper, oh, and texting on his phone with one hand and doing his homework with the other. Not to mention how tired he'd feel after...

"Poke." The nurse and the doctor chimed together.

He stared at the wall...er, lab coat, bracing himself for the inevitable. His eyes squinted shut, his fingers clenched the edge of the table....wait...what happened to the needle? Greg glanced to the side, watching as the nurse put the needle away.

"Aren't you going to poke me?"

The nurse blinked. "You didn't feel it?"

Salem

Salem, Salem

Open by day,

Locked up by night

Fine place to play

No place to work

Unless I want to

Shovel french fries

Or turn forty-five.

Salem,

A place for friends,

But only if you

Know them already.

It's also a great place

To build work experience,

But only if we have it already.

Keyword Drabble: Sentient Calculator

It wasn't fair. Today just happened to be the perfect day for a test. He glanced down at the paper in frustration, watching the letters numbers and symbols blurring into a pleasant, therefore annoying shade of gray. His eyes drifted over to his neighbor, his hands crinkling the freshly printed test sheet. That girl had a calculator so technologically advanced it was practically sentient! 

He had a calculator. In fact, the calculator was almost as good as the artificially intelligent one sitting right next to him. Unfortunately for him, and his grade, said calculator happened to be left somewhere...possibly dropped by the snowman he had passed in a hurry on his way to class today.

Drumming his fingers, he tried to not think about stealing that calculator and smashing it in loving memory of his device missing in action. He attempted to distract  himself from the reek of freshly devoured pickles, and the urge to reach for said device of grade saving doom. It seemed to pull at his hand like a magnet. Sweat dripping down his brow, he watched his hand tremble toward the desk, just inches away from his own.

And then lightning struck, throwing out the power, abruptly ending the test. His hand traveled innocently back to the desk, pushing his paper further up the desk.

Through Rose Stained Glass, Prolouge Part I

Sirens squealed and howled, but they seemed more faint. Even their bright red and blue lights appeared muted, nearly grey that afternoon. It didn't feel that late in the day either. Everything felt cold to the touch, except the body. Once touched, the skin felt luke-warm, and squishy like a water balloon. Above all else, the sticky blood overloaded her senses. Scarlet, appearing red, then brown, filling her nose with the rank smell of human flesh, leaving a metallic taste on her tongue. The of gun powder made itself known, but failed to take over the smell of mortal blood.

Then they were alone. She vaguely remembered her hands feeling cold and heavy. They slid over a smooth metallic surface, not caring to recognize what they touched. Her eyes stared ahead at the body, the carcass, the dead. Moments dragged on, and the wounded failed to rise....as did their chests. Nothing felt real anymore. Soon she'd wake up, soon. Her hand tried to reach her other arm to pinch it, killing the dream, but it wouldn't leave the weapon it held. It wouldn't let go.

Hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back and away from the scene, and pulling the cold steel from her hands. A smile crept along her lips as her hands felt lighter, but only for a moment. The same hands that pulled her back and held her captive, clamped on cold, stiff rings. She blinked, feeling the reality of handcuffs. She would wake up soon.

"You have the right to remain silent."

She had to wake up.

Forgiving and Forgetting

I would forgive you,

If only I could forget you.

Perhaps,

I could forget you

Once I forgave you.

But every sound

Shape

Shade

Sight seems to

Remind me of that day,

And the days following,

Sinking into sticky black,

And staying glued there

In spite of the shining

Light of letting go.

It does you no harm,

But it does me no good.

In fact, I think it harms me more

Than it ever did you

IF I

COuld only let it go. Let you go on with

YouR life,

Your Goals, and then,

Possibly I

Could  moVe on too, on

With  my  lifE