Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts

March 24, 2013

Cookie-Cutters and Homemades, From the Heart

Cookie-cutters, shaping dough in the same sad way all over again, pretending to hate things that they once loved. They forget the memories, and try their hardest not to make some. Anything mainstream goes, that is until it had it's fifteen minutes. Cookie cutters, just wasting away their same, sad lives, wanting to be normal, wanting to have the same old routine every single day. They complain and argue about their life instead of living it, think nothing, yet everything, of others, and act, so they can win everyone over with their fake, little smiles.

Hands on, hands shaped cookies, loving themselves for a simple thing- just being who they are, listening to the kind of music the cookie-cutters doesn't like. They drink from half-full cups, and will always have their friend's back, no matter if she is a blondie cheerleader or a slightly nerdy nut cookie. Handmade cookies sample the world, and find joy in what they love, no matter what.
So, honestly, which sounds better- a sloppy, imperfect homemade cookie, or a flawless cookie-cutter? If you picked the last, think again. 
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March 19, 2013

The First of Spring.

As the world turns, the first of Spring starts like clean pages turning in a book, waiting for a pencil's lead to press down on their blank canvas, carving it's new beginning. It's all the same as a somewhat different time ago; the currently scribbled on flipped past sheets were once blank, without the chaos and darkness that sat on it now. These new pages promised to be better, though, and there was no reason on earth not to believe them, besides the simple fact that in the past, the others, now ruined, had promised, too. That was gone and through, now, and this very moment would be past soon enough. What would this time bring?
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As dew drops form on freshly cut grass, the sun comes around to welcome the new season. The people wonder, "How would this turn out?" Only time will tell, if this first of spring will follow the fate of the last, or if it will try to breakaway from the pattern.