Dear Zombies of the Ecological Apocalypse, Earth, Circa 2020,
The following is a message for you from High Command.
Take note of the words that programme your brains for they contain a great number of "short-circuits" via words that are spelled differently but sound the same. These words programme you as a social virus, an unseen dream or unheard song, yet it changes you at your core. Take for example with the English meat eaters, the "lamp chop with mint sauce." You are here commanded by the Sinister Force to "chop" the "lamb" who attacks the "source of the mint." To your language, "mint" translates as "money" and "lamb" is an agent of the divine spirit who does work for the High Command. Until you gain awareness of these deep triggers and take action upon them, we cannot assist your kind because you do not meet the full criteria of a sentient and sane life-form. Should you cross that barrier, we will come. Until then, try not to "eat" the brains of those who are smarter than you - just thank them and do some thinking for yourself.
Kind Regards ("re-guards" because you are dangerous as zombies),
The Messenger Fleet of the High Command
Its fiery wings glided softly past me, bring warmth into my body. It flew once, twice around me, finally stopping to rest on my shoulders. Its body is like blazing fire, burning brightly even through impenetrable darkness. A fire is the light in the dark, while the phoenix is the light of my world.
In sun and rain the church spire reached into that every stretching blue. It was as if it spoke of the love in our community, that it too lasted in any weather and called on us all to stand tall every day. If church isn't love, what ever could it be? Love so solid it becomes a rock and makes us all defenders of the weak every week and day.
Rachel trotted through skeletal trees, their branches so bare that she could have counted the leaves on each and every one as she passed by. The trees were skirted by pools of autumn gold and rust coloured leaves. When the wind blew the pools animated. Leaves took to the air in an elegant dance, pirouetting around the tree trunks to their own orchestral rustling. When the wind calmed, the dance ended and the leaves landed to form new pools that looked identical to the ones they were in before they started to frolic.
MAKE A WISH (HIP HOP/RAP LYRIC)
Make a wish,
I'm the lactose,
To your dairy,
Strip mall stall,
Take it all.
But hear this John,
Sole to rock,
Love takes all,
Heads bowed and tall,
Sick spin blaster,
Each own master,
Chains snap, crackle, pop,
This freedom train non-stop,
Need some help?
Here's a hint,
Save the candle,
Blow the mint.
Make a wish,
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?
That warm, raspy voice that possessed his cords that night, sent nerves dancing up my spine. His smile sent my mind into an uncontrolled, captivated spiral and his light touch lingered, it branded my soul with a simple mark: infatuation. To call it love would be a mockery of my heart, a symbol of my dying innocence. But every tempered word he spoke invaded my mind, like ivy tendrils seeking any point of weakness to enter; they wrapped my body in a blanket of comfort and consumed my soul in the heat of lust.
I remember that night in a soft, painful haze. It's the night that taught me the difference between love and infatuation. Love is unconditional, eternal... Infatuation? It dies.
Against the dark night sky all Steve could see was the crumbling walls that were nothing more than a ghostly silhouette of some previous existence. The wind whistled through the trees bringing with it the laughter of children who once lived there and the caring call of a mother letting them know dinner was ready.
Vividly he could picture his childhood. The walls didn’t seem so grey when he was only a boy, nor did they seem so small. In his mind he pictured this place as though it were a castle where he and his brother were the Princes. His mother and father would glide through the once pristine halls, the King and Queen of their kingdom. He felt like no time had passed since he moved from this house, yet as he gazed upon the overgrown bushes and the shattered windows it was evident just how wrong he was.