LiteraryMagazine

I never said I'd lie and wait forever If I died, we'd be together I can't always just forget her But she could try With tears in his eyes, Steve sat on a dark grey couch, clutching an old photo from the 1930s, a young woman in a black and white photo a large grin on her face with her hair perfectly pulled into loose curls. Sobbing softly he bit back another loud sob as he traced the photo with his thumb. At the end of the world Or the last thing I see You are Never coming home Never coming home Could I? Should I? If only he could protect you. If only he was there. If only he wasn't frozen.. A million thoughts ran around his brain as he sudd

"Sosuke-san! Look at all the pretty fish!" You ran up the glass and printed your hands on it. Your eyes were glued to every passing species of fish that came into view. It was really a sight. "They are pretty." He agreed with a smile on his face as he walked up behind you. "Do you want to take pictures?" "I'd love to! But I don't have my camera." "Don't worry about. I brought my own." He took out his digital camera from his back pocket. "Back up against the glass and pose so I can take your picture." You nodded and did as he asked. You started taking different poses with the lovely fish as your background. "How do they look?" You ran up to

    One    Despite the world's rapidly growing population, Garn is nearly a ghost town. The fifth lifes and older have all left for Ruaza, and few first lifes learn maturity here. Couples have given up on raising children, as they fear they will be condemned to Hado as possessed or eventual poltergeists. Here Artemis accumulates a small wealth from his monopoly.    But life here is empty for him. His immortal rebirths lay a future of loneliness before him. His only living son Felix resides in Orengard as a bounty hunter of poltergeists. Artemis spends his nights in solitude and ponders the fate of his dying world. The forge gives him litt

Nine hundred and ninety nine lay dead on the battlefield.  Only one remained to see the blood soaked earth, to watch the buzzards feast.  In that smoky plain once filled with life and light, a haze of burning rubber and molten metal drifted.  The acrid smell touched on this final soldier’s face, stinging and choking him as it did.  Charred bodies, once friends and once foes, blotted the landscape at this lost warrior’s feet.  Nine hundred and ninety nine were dead. He stumbles over the mangled remains of his platoon but never realizes.  They are disfigured beyond recognition.  Down to the bone they have been stripped, ranks all t