Roll up! Roll up! Come see the capitalism magic show, while you watch the coins, your resources will disappear right before your eyes!
The good memories are my salve. They are a comfort in the background, as if they were the elevator music of my soulfire.
When I wake up, I bet I heard my mom yelling at me for sleeping in. But then the reality takes over my dreams. Mom's not here. The reality hits like a stab in the stomach. All I can do is take it in.
My roommate greets me with a grin in the kitchen. Some Spanish show is blaring on the TV. My dishes are still in the sink. Those have been there for so long because no one has told me to do the dishes. I sigh turning on the faucet. Growing up is all about responsibilities.
It's not doing your dishes because you'll lose your access to wifi for an entire day otherwise. It's doing it because you won't have anything to eat from otherwise.
Waking up early is not about pleasing your mother and giving her a reason to let you go out. It's about running errands that your life literally depends on.
Curfews are not for your parents to stop worrying about your safety, but you worrying about yours.
Having a job is not about saving money, it's about spending it.
I curse myself for choosing to grow up so fast all the while doing my grown up responsibilities.
"Oh, I'm going out to the party tonight. You coming?" My roommate shouts to make herself audible over the noise from the TV.
"Heck, yeah," I say.
Did I mention growing up is having fun and being free?
I don't have the slightest inkling about what happened to my cold and calloused heart. You felt like family the instant I met you. Is this passion or misery; how do I convey this unusual feeling?
When I met you, it felt like my day bloomed beautifully. Who knows where we are going?; I have left all that to my heart.
Whichever path I travel, I want only you. You are my supplement; I am yours too!
Thank you, my dear; this heart is yours from now on. How is this new feeling? Name it like you want.
I don't know anything else- you are the one who understands me so well. I have never seen the craze I have in anybody else, other than you! My morning starts with you, my evenings end with you. I will not lose you from my vision; I will give you all you want; you just give me yourself.
I just crave this amazing company you give me. I just worship you.
A derelict house stood before me, repugnant and mouldy. Only fear anchored my feet in the darkness. An immense storm could be heard in the distance, echoing through the silent night. Lighting ripped the inky sky. The silver hues of clouds became as molten silver, swirling, ripples radiating. I crept to the paint-crumbling door amid low struggling trees.
I twisted the handle of the door, it creaked, the sound becoming whispers that filled the room, urging me to run lest I end up as lost and lonely as they. One moment I was outside, the next I was within, despite never taking a step. The door slammed. There was no exit. The floorboards moaned with age. Suddenly something tugged at me, something with a icy grip...
I sigh, closing my leather journal and setting it (along with my pen) aside in my small, light cerulean blue satchel. The satchel has been my best friend ever since I first found it in the antique store five and a half years ago when mom and dad had given this to me as a kind of early birthday gift. It was the last thing both my parents had given to me before passing.
The leather used to be new, polished, smooth even. Now after five years of having this satchel it's finally starting to look timeworn, but it's that kind of oldish, worn out look makes it all the more appealing for me.
The press called them vigilante hitmen, taking out the bad guys of the world professional contract killer style. Our team were the perfect choice to investigate them with the full resources of the government because they appeared to have data from intelligence sources. I gotta say, being paid to investigate yourself has it's perks, lots of them. We called ourselves the top predators because we were the predators of the predators, top of the feud chain.
Our aim in the pandemic was to keep all of our policies as child-centred as possible, for our children are the future of our nation and their health matters. As a precaution we opened the "mom and pop" schools for vulnerable kids and key worker children. Their schooling was to remain open year round with fun "camp" activities in the holidays. If that wasn't sufficient, the next stage was alternate "week on, week off" schooling for the remainder of the school population. As a last resort we sent pupils home from the schools in the most affluent 2/3 of postcodes and spread the pupils from the least affluent 1/3 of postcodes between the newly emptied schools to give proper social distancing. This way the kids most likely to be living in stressful or cramped housing with more stressed parents were always taken care of, well fed, educated and loved by their teachers. By doing this we reduced the ACEs in society and gave our entire country a better future in terms of health, happiness and our economy.
Raindrops come to bequeath a million sunlit crowns to the blacktop street.
Leaders in the food industry, combined with large cash-rich companies, backed a new initiative to make food free for the poor. They began by taking advantage of the exchange rates mechanisms of the money-nexus, after all, the units of currency in the industrialised countries buy far more in the developing world. It was part of the new wave of political chivalry that sprang from a sense of love, the kind that has a need to protect and care for others. It was a vast network of goodness that sprang from simple seeds. It wasn't simply providing food, yet also preventing waste with use of cold-chain technology. As the network grew, the emotional need to help others strengthened along with the bonds of international friendship and trust. This was the beginning of the end for the money-nexus and the start of the love-nexus, the system that brought about real sustainability, global cooperation and a healthy planet.
Lightning lit the skies in brilliant streaks. Fog embraced every tree, every square centimetre of of ground. Thunder declared itself as some rock star upon the stage. Sheets of rain revived the grass, resounding and rippling without frontier.
Above, the houses on the hill survive in valley-echoed hail.
Emerald eruptions of green envelop countryside in a carpet of living nature. Towers and trees - once boundless and bare - now flourish with vines, victorious as they claim their valley.
Streams once sucked of their nourishing liquids are now bustle with aquatic activity. Ripples run freely, harbingers of joy. The river, slowly but surely, creates a new liberty, surging over the banks to create a space, carving and forming the new paradise.
There, among the regenerating giant, a boy sat gazing out as nature unfolds its hidden secret.
In the forest, birds song can shine and sunlight can sing to the soul, all as the rich canopy creates a calming kaleidoscope upon the ground.