IsEveryoneThisLost

An Hour to Kill        The girl walked up the stairs to her apartment. She almost reached for the railing that had been there last week then stopped herself at the last moment. The lights were dim, the whole place smelled like mold. The third step squeaked, she skipped the seventh step. It had cracked every time it had been stepped on, one of these days it would fall and take her with it. "I can't afford the hospital bills." She muttered to her self. She reached the second floor still intact.       Her neighbors were fighting , but her neighbors were always fighting. The wallpaper seemed to peel off a little more with every word Susanna y

Tape By IsEveryoneThisLost     It was Saturday night - or was it Sunday morning? Chris never did understand exactly how that worked. He knew that technically at midnight, morning started, and that means that midnight was badly named. But in reality, the night went on long past that. Maybe night kept going until you went to sleep, and his night would end after many people's started.     Chris felt a heat on his fingers and looked at his hand. A cigarette. He had been smoking. He looked around and felt in his pockets for the pack. He opened it up, and it became apparent that this was not his first cigarette tonight.     He didn't remembe

       This is a story. You could say it a love story. You could say it's a cautionary tale. You could say it's a poem, free verse of course. Picture a girl 7 years old, playing in a field of daisies. She's running, she's laughing, she's at the top of a hill now. Do you see the way she doesn't care as she gets her Sunday dress dirty? Or as her shoes fall off and her feet are slowly caked with grass stained dirt. Picture her standing at the top of the hill, looking over the road, to both sides, wondering why there are no cars on it. Wondering why the lines are the way they are. Wondering for the sake of curiosity. She picks a daisy, an

People always say to 'stop and smell the roses'. But I've never seen anyone actually do it. Technically, I still haven't, because it wasn't a rose. But it's the principle.        It was a flower, I know that much for sure - but I have no idea what kind. I know roses are typically red. However, this flower couldn't decide whether to be sky blue or the deepest purple; so it let the two colors go at it, and some strange combination won. This flower was surrounded by more flowers like it, with stems as high as my waist, but it had beaten the rest of them in the race to blooming.        I was walking, late to something or other, and this girl wa