He hadn't seen darkness in weeks. The coronal mass had scoured the planet, the only solace the room he huddled in. This close in, the sunlight never let up, glazing the inside of his cell with imposing brightness. The first few hours had seen him lose all sense of shape, the white(more) lines of the room going ever brighter until even closing his eyes wouldn't bring darkness. Temperature control spun up, keeping him alive.
He'd searched bitterly, eyes closed against the blistering heat, looking for a panel that might let break the seal of the bastard room. Smooth walls, pocked with scraps of paint and old tape, greeted his fingers. There was nothing.
He began a litany of movement, dragging one foot and one hand along the wall, his body nearly flat, seeking out any edge or curl that might indicate the switch he knew was there. It was like this until he fell asleep, the bulk of his body shielding his eyes. Then again: awake, and move.
When he found the dark corner, it was with his skin and not his eyes. He was moving what he thought of as counter-clockwise around the edge of the room, brushing hands along the pitted walls and he felt the stone cool slightly. His fingers curled in shock. When he opened his eyes, he could see nothing, only white. It took some time, more time than he could hold in his mind, until his eyes began to register the hard black outline of shadow there in the corner.
The sun was moving. His eyes blurred the patch of darkness with tears.(less)
Nell let out a pained cry as her knees hit the floor of a darkened room. The purple light that surrounded her earlier sparked out into a dark corner of the room and showed the edge of a door for a small instant.
Nell felt the dust an(more)d dirt on the wooden floor below the palms of her hands. She could smell the stale of the room as it had been unused for quite some time. Eight years by her count.
Of course the Goddess would transport her here in a time of need.
Footsteps made their way to the door, a light appeared as someone illuminated the hallway outside of it.
Nell looked into one of the faces of the famous White Moth Coven of Bath.
"Well, well, well," an older woman chuckled, "Seems the Little One could use our help yet again."
Nell didn't say anything. She was too embarrassed to. Eight years ago she told them she didn't want anything to do with magick after they helped her.
"Come now," Bryony muttered as she went to help Nell up, "You were much better company when you had a sarcastic reply for everything."
"Your hair has gotten grayer," Nell mumbled, "And it smells like mothballs in here."
"That's the young girl I remember," Bryony smiled, her soft gray eyes twinkled, "We best get you cleaned up and fed. Your room will arrange itself by the time you come back for rest."
"He's much stronger than I remember," Nell knew she didn't need to explain to Bryony. She most likely foresaw everything.
"You told us you wanted nothing to do with magick," Bryony was also well adept at mind reading, "He's only stronger now because you haven't been in practice. We should start with your mind blocks."
Rats scurried from the dark corner of the room. Something lurked there, hidden in the shadows. Artyom knew not what it was, only that he needed to be away from it as quickly as possible.
(more) In two bounds he was across the narrow room clawing at the doorknob. Locked, of course. He had locked the door himself the very same evening. Casting his eyes about the room he spied a transom, the window below it having been bricked over decades ago.
Stepping cautiously now, not wanting to awaken whatever evil lay across the room from him, Artyom began to gather loose bricks left behind by the workers. It was difficult work, and several times he had to stop simply to wipe perspiration from his eyes. (less)
her roaming eyes follow you everywhere, hauntingly, dauntingly, begging you to go over and speak to her. you stay in your corner, hoping no one aside from her notices you.
you wonder if she can see what you have planned for tonight, if she can see the loathin(more)g and hatred in your eyes, the death looming over you, a cloak of skeletons and a crown of sins. fingernails trimmed so as to not get in the way, coated in a soulless charcoal grey, lips painted pink like still beating flesh.
or maybe she sees just another human being, out to have a good time, to get wasted, and maybe to take someone home for the night.
you give her a smile, one which not quite reaches your eyes, before tilting your head towards the stairwell up to the roof.
you quickly make your way up the staircase on the balls of your feet, not bothering to glance back to see if she's following (because of course she is).
'i thought we needed more privacy,' you announce, not facing the stairwell, but rather the vast night city sky in front of you.
'sorry?' she says, and step onto the parapet before turning to face her.
you smile at her, teeth bared and lips curling. 'step right up and come win a prize,' you sing.
she can't say no to you. she steps.
you wave a hand behind you, gesturing to the urban city below the both of you.
'what do you think?' you whisper, not really looking for an answer.
she answers anyways. 'it's beautiful.'
your mocking smile turns into more of a sneer, and you give her your hand. 'will you conquer it with me?'
she nods slightly, barely, taking your outstretched hand.
I sat in the corner as the sun set and the clock ticked closer to the evening hours, my thoughts bounced in my mind and paced back and forth between the lurking darkness and the evolving brightness. i sat in dismay over my future and tried to understand what it(more) meant to be in the present, but the dark corner sucked me in to believing i must reside there and give into the dooming fate of static life.(less)
Funny thing about the dark. You're safe there as long as nobody sees you. If they don't know, they can't hurt you. Dark corners have to be the stupidest place to hide. They are the first place that people look.
In fact, the dark itself just sort o(more)f puts people on edge. It's difficult to hide in the dark. People notice when people are slinking around in the darkness. It makes you look suspicious.
The daylight, now. That's the place to hide. Don't pick a corner. Don't stand in the middle of the room, either. Sit along the wall, or at a table in a crowd of people. Be quiet. Act like you are doing something un-interesting like paperwork or reading. Silence. The sound around you will envelope you and hide you. Be still, but not too still. Be an average every-day person and no one will ever know that you were there.
It gets dark so early this time of year.
The sun sinks away at five.
The children slink away at seven.
The streets bathed in sin and song.
A hemorrhage of light bleeds through the alleyways,
rounding the dark corners near my window.
(more) Midnight croons a moonlight sonata
for the fortunate few
alive enough to see the stars.
Passion and paranoia are all so similar,
like imaginary monsters we chase 'til dawn.
I lie in bed, receding into the haze of evening
like a dream fading to the morning sun.
As they pulled out of the parking lot of the Mount Saint Vincent residences, Julia considered what to say to her husband Howard. They had been waiting for this moment for so long, putting off their separation until Heather was launched. Would she be able to follow(more) through on what she had so longed to do for so long?
For at the last ten years -maybe longer, Julia wasn't really sure- they had just been going through the motions of parenting and acting as husband and wife. Heather was the ballast of their relationship. Their shared desire to give her a steady home, to be there for gymnastics competitions, parent-teacher conferences and even adolescent crises, was the only thing that sustained them. As a couple, she felt they had nothing in common. Howard was absorbed in building his internet security company, while Julia had recently completed her Master's in English literature, and was longing for her big break as a novelist. On their last date night, some five years earlier, they spent most of their meal forcing conversation about Julia's progress in school, and about whether they should renovate the upstairs bathroom. No wanting to alarm their daughter, they did still sleep in the same room, though Julia could no longer recall what it felt like to be touched by her husband. In any case, she was pretty sure that Heather recognized something was not right between her parents.
With Heather starting college, Julia thought to herself, there was no good reason for the two of them to continue their charade. Divorce would be scary, but it plunge into the unknown they would need to take in order to realize their full potential. She took a deep breath, turned to her husband and said “Howard? It's time.”
Art class was always so boring. Sure, Alex had imagination but he could never quite get it down on paper right. So it was that he was always staring out the window, imagining himself sitting in the tree and staring right back.
(more) "Oh Alex, that's a very beautiful blank page you have there," remarked his teacher, causing him to jump.
"Uh... right. Sorry." He dipped his brush into the small bottle of ink, then started trying to re-create the tree on paper. Long vertical strokes for the trunk, followed by fluid swirly strokes for the canopy.
It still wasn't going very well when he heard the airplane outside. He glanced out at it and began imagining himself flying the aircraft. Suddenly, in his mind's eye, there was an explosion and he had to eject. Everything was alright though because he could fly on his own, so he soared up above the school and above the clouds. Everything looked so small and insignificant.
"Alex!" shouted the teacher. He started again, knocking the bottle of ink with his hand. Quickly, out of sheer embarrassment, he righted the bottle and pulled his sheet of paper off the desk. He was fast enough that there wasn't a huge mess to clean up, but it was too late for his art. The corner of his paper had soaked up a large quantity of ink, utterly blacking out a fair bit of the painting. It was ruined.
"Oh well, it wasn't very good anyway," Alex grumbled to himself. "Maybe I can still hand this in and pretend it's abstract."(less)
A dark corner can be hidden in a bright and sun-drenched room. Do you know what a dark corner looks like to someone who gets pushed into one because someone else is exerting more power and control than they should? It is dark and you can't see a doo(more)r or window to exit. Look and listen fo people you love who might be spending time in a dark corner. They are afraid to ask for your help. You need to reach out and give it; insist on giving it; stop the person who is putting her in the corner. That is love.(less)