Monday, December 9, 2013

Fragile Things

Another 100 word story, slowly catching up to the delay that I bumped into the past few days.  

It's finals week, but I'll do my best to catch up.  It's my fault that I didn't plan my time better.  Sorry to all those that follow and finding no story up last Saturday.  

This popped up as I was reading over the literary styles of J.D. Salinger and Ernest Hemingway.  I have a collection of their short stories, after reading a few today I thought it would be interesting to see what the critics had to say regarding their style and form.  

I'm far from ever being able to pull out the same imagery and their between-the-lines form of writing, but it's always refreshing and eye-opening to read about it.  

Enjoy!  Back to studying for me.  

12/07/2013 (Saturday)- Fragile Things

               Kevin picked up a collection of porcelain children at the flea market.  Second-hand.  

               Their tired glazed expression frozen in time, brittle clay innocence hidden away covered in dust.  Forgotten.

                 The silent timidity of their poses enhanced by the fine hairline cracks etched on their bone white skin, bloodless veins spider-webbing their way over hollow bodies—like thin dark fingers creeping around their limbs as if to steal their immaterial purity.  Wan helpless smiles painted blood red. 

               He took them out of the box, gently… carefully.

               They were perfect beside his glass-framed childhood, tucked away on a shelf. 

               Hidden away.