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Writing > Users > joonmymoon > 2009

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by joonmymoon on January 12, 2009
"when one writes exactly what's in his/her head and heart, nothing and no one can make the words prettier."

couch. dawn. washington.

The wetness of the ground, the crispness of the air and the barely- touching sensation of the raindrops running down my face ignites such great feelings from one jaded and heavy heart. The flashback of a vibrant silhouette of trees across the lake flood my thoughts as i wipe the raindrop crawling down my right cheekbone off.

The dawn was just about to break then. Another year added, though the year's coming to its end. Moments were filled only with sincerity and honesty, only with passion and the constant struggle to keep awake. The uncertainty of every minute made time fly by like swift, pounding heartbeats hidden under a thick cable sweater. A singer's voice, very-well appreciated despite its imperfection, taught many a life's principles in just one night and in just one couch.

The modesty of the moments made our minds dance with doubts and oblivion. The heart was put into question and the mind only knew so much. Our last hope of the fireplace keeping us warm failed us as the air didn't let it stand still. The flames only lasted for so long and our only fall back was to stay close and still. The silence was only broken by a comic display of eructations and the occasional inquiry of what was being thought of.

There came to be a dance of the arms since we had an abundance of limitations. The head got heavy and eventually set its nest on a warm shoulder, cracking open more volts than we can handle. More thoughts disturbed and more feelings were shaken. The voice, still singing us to sleep, has given more and more truths that bound us together.

Though the mouth was incapable of releasing pretty words, a beautiful conversation through the night's placidity was still shared. The mind and the body were enervated but the heart was bursting with the desire to keep going. It almost wanted to halt time to linger on the wee hours of the morning; Savor the freshness of each minute as it may not happen again.

Watching the rising of the sun was something we haven't done, not in a while, not together. The battle against going unconscious got harder and harder, but the fond hopes of comfort and joy kept us alive. Our minds filled with endless possibilities and exciting uncertainties. Our souls filled with nothing but love.

But now the constant dripping from the sky has left the future in haze, in thick dark gray clouds. My heart left only with love's intensity, for everything and everyone it has accommodated. And I've learned that even the truest realities can turn into mere flashbacks and eventually even flashbacks come to an end.

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