Behind Blue EyesShe was the sort of girl that you saw every day.Or at least she looked like she was at first glance.Tall and dark and pretty, with a heart shaped face and a bright, paper lantern smile, painted on crooked, that she took out and dusted off every once in a while.If you had bothered to look again you might have seen something else beyond the obvious. A dark light about her that made you think of fallen angels standing on street corners, wearing dirty All-Stars and crooked smiles. There was a vulnerability to her, a quiet sadness beneath the strength that made you want to protect her, even if she was more than capable of doing it herself.She could have been any girl really, and she often caught herself wishing that she was. It would have made everything so much easier, so much simpler just to live the lie, not knowing what she knew and doing what she did night after night.An Irish Catholic born on the dark streets of a fallen city, she had been taught from her first breath the differe
FFM: Day 29 ChallengeHattie turned part of the object over, scanning the scrawling black lines that made their way across the surface in regimented little rows."What is it, Noona?"The Symbiont robot whirred towards her, hovering a few inches above the uneven ground, it's facial display flashing lights in a way that Hattie had learned to distinguish as distress."It is a book, little one. The old people used to use them, before direct transfers were invented and people lost the use for stories."Hattie frowned and turned the thing on its side, flipping through it in an attempt to decipher some hidden pattern or meaning. Eventually bored, she put it aside and wiped the dust from her hands with her floral pattern skirt."I'm bored, Noona. Can you take me home now, please?"The Symbiont quivered beside her. Her metallic voice, usually so soothing, was higher pitched and unsure. "No, Hattie. We cannot go home. We must wait here until it is dark again, and remain very still and very quiet, and then perhaps we
FFM: Day 27Anemone grabbed hold of a passing butterfly and stuffed it into her mouth, cutting Ryan's story off mid sentence as she made loud chewing sounds.He pointed at her face helpfully. "You have a bit of wing on your chin there.""Oh, shoot!" She quickly wiped it off and smiled in thanks.It had taken a bit of getting used to, he had to admit, but in the end Anemone had become a good enough friend that he reckoned he could politely ignore her unusual eating habits."So anyway, where was I?""You were saying how your Uncle has finally gone bonafide insane and your folks are going to lock him up in the mad house with your Granny Mathilda.""Right, so I was. Well like I was saying, we finally realised he'd gone over the edge when he moved Aunt Rosemary's entire living room set into the pond out back. It's not deep, so he was just sort of sitting in the middle of it with his favorite armchair and the TV, clicking the remote every now and again. Aunt Rosemary got pretty upset about it because sh
FFM: Schrodinger's catThe cat wasn't alive, strictly speaking. Daniel knew this, as he had put it in the box several hours before. The experiment was meant to be unpredictable but Daniel had to start work at 5, so he'd hurried things along a little.His girlfriend wasn't going to be happy, as it was her cat. The beast and him had never been friendly. But he figured since it was in the pursuit of science and part of his class thesis, he might be able to get away with it.After all, until he opened the box it wasn't strictly dead either.
FFM: Day 23 ChallengeThe Thin White Duke watched as the day finally drew to a close. It had been a colorless sunset, strangely anemic, almost insubstantial. The light had seemed to flow towards the horizon, getting sucked down into that space beyond the ocean where monsters lurked and the end of the world waited to swallow wayward ships.The house he had appropriated afforded a wonderful view of the sea. It was a large building, lined with windows and nestled safely into the crescent of the hill. It was cold, modern, minimalistic, empty but for himself and the girl, who had been securely tied to the only chair, and entirely removed from everything else in the area. He rather liked it, not least because it suited his particular needs on this occasion.Standing there in his starched black suit he seemed almost concave, a tall, pale figure with a lit cigarette. Like a hollow man with all light and shadow skewed oddly around him, as though he reflected the world back all wrong somehow and it was doing its best
FFM: Day 22Normal people don't leak sawdust. But how was I to know that girl at the party had a wood lice infection?Doctor gave me a few remedies to try, but you know how these things go...Life is hard when you're not a real boy, and lets face it, pharmacies don't stock pills for puppets.
FFM: Day 21 ChallengeThere had been six levels to the circus this far, and now at last Charlie had reached the heart. He clasped the final ticket that had been given to him by the Harlequin at the door, and slipped through the black velvet curtains that closed off the entrance.There were no further guards, at this point there was no need. Instead what lay before him was a corridor lined with windows, each looking out upon a different scene, each window reflecting out onto another part of the show. For a moment all he could do was stand there, terrified beyond all thought or reason by what he might be about to see, his nails digging into the palms of his hands and his teeth set on edge. Then the moment passed, and he took the first step forward to see what waited for him in the darkness there.In the first window sat the fortune teller, bound by her dark and glittering chains in the low, smoky light of her abode, her cheeks wet with salty tears as one by one she lay the tarot cards out upon the
FFM: Fragile ThingsYou were Seventeen years old when you first had your photograph taken, and it is in this photo above all others that you feel the passing of time most keenly. You were not a handsome boy, not yet, still somehow growing into your ears though all your peers had done that years before. You remember your shoes being too tight, and your expression is uncomfortable, but the day before Claire Simmons had kissed you on the steps behind the church and it seems in hindsight that a little of that triumphant glow still clings to you.But then, it is really just a photograph of a nervous boy in too tight shoes, who has avoided having his photograph taken for a considerable amount of time. Age and memory play tricks, and make wishes out of things, or so you have found lately.-Your second photograph is with your best friend. You think there were a few other pictures before that, but you have seen none of them. You are both in uniform, laughing in the face of future glory, convinced of your own brav
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