The the soft jangle of her keys was the only sound as she took them off of the hook next to the front door.

Which was to be expected since it was the middle of the night.

There was nobody in the house other than her, nobody to wake up, but it didn’t feel right to be loud leaving the silent.

She had nobody to leave, and nobody to go to. She’d long since made sure of that.

Not that it was her own fault. She couldn’t help it. There was just no longer anybody to sneak out with her in the middle of the night.

Why was she doing this again?

Oh, right.

Just to take a nice drive. A simple drive, in the middle of the night. When the city was silent and nobody else was around. When the street lights were on but there was nobody beneath them. When the cars were but ants left sitting still in their driveways and on curbs. When the birds stopped their incessant chattering. When it was as though all of them had all vanished, and she was the only person left in the world,

and she wouldn’t have been bothered by it.


via Daily Prompt: Jangle



Not really sure what this is about; I just wanted to write something. so yeah.

After all that had happened, she was relieved to be home.

It had been a long day. A test, a quiz, and even more… non-school related of course. Except she didn’t really care to think about that part. What had happened in relation to her one and only friend in the place that was school.

But oh well; she had done it once without anyone to help her, she could and would have to do it again.

via Daily Prompt: Relieved


Keeping it the same, keeping it uniform and fair, giving everybody the same exact thing should be enough, right?


Different people have different needs, and it does not help to give everybody the same thing; the same help, the same resources to help them succeed.

So no. You need to give people what they need specifically; not what most people need.

via Daily Prompt: Uniform


Her friend was imaginary, seemingly. He used to be real, but now he wasn’t, he was gone.

It was a long story.

All she knew was that she missed him, but he would never be able to come back from where he was now. She hoped he was happy, but he would never know now.

She wondered if he ever thought about her; if she was happy, if she was successful, if he even cared anymore. If he remembered her. She wondered what he did now. She wondered if she would be able to see him again.

She saw him sometimes, though he was now imaginary; she saw him where he would be at home, where he would just fit. Or where she thought he would. She didn’t trust her memories of him anymore; they seemed almost too magical. Too untouched, to perfect, in a way. Like they almost weren’t real anymore.

She only remembered him in a certain number of ways; she had been his friend, but not allowed too much time. What time they had, they had made last, before he had to leave. It had been fun. But it had been so long.

So she didn’t know if her few retained memories were fair to him; if it was fair where she imagined his smiles, his jokes. Those whispered memories weren’t enough sometimes; she just wanted to see him again, though she knew she would have to wait.

All she knew was that she missed him.

via Daily Prompt: Imaginary


Her brassy hair waved behind her as she looked out the window of the bus. Again and again, as she always had.

A familiar view it was. Every single morning for years, seemingly.

There was laughing around her. There were other people.

But she just stared out of the open window, the wind pushing her hair behind her. The air moving past her, moving the same way that it always had.

It was enough.

via Daily Prompt: Brassy


Your malicious words are a catapult; their destruction can reach far and hurt many. They crush and enrage in result; their projectiles are unyielding in weight and unable to dodge. They launch to their targets straight and true, their bullets and bombs decimating those who are unlucky enough to receive them if they do not have a strong armor against such attacks, though even the toughest of skins do not hold up to the most relentless and repeated strikes.

via Daily Prompt: Catapult