First Line Tag

first line tag

thank you for the tag moots @ahowlinwolf !!

rules: share your first line and tag as many people as there are words in it.

When I was pulled from the corpse of my mother, my father knew only one of us would hear ‘I love you.’

tagging [no pressure to do it]: @herondalelucies @plutowritesstuff @drowsy-quill @aaceofheartss @andiwriteunderthemoon @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric @theforgottencoolkid @sweetdollywrites @prestonwrites @eyajii @ashdevereaux @inkpostor @inkedeclipse @nmcwriting @bookupastorm @saraswriteblr @half-explored

aaaaand i’ll stop there because oof, too much.

You can tell me when it’s over, if the high was worth the pain...

sleeping on afterglow is illegal you can’t do it

gays ruined the word hole for eternity

hello. i cried. this is like,,, the saddest chap so far. im so hurt skdjkdjd im sooo hurt aaa :((

sleeping at last

written and created by: zie madayag (@poeticparchment)

word count: 4182

“And you named each one a variation of my name.”

•   •   •   •   •

July 10th of 2020.

     “I’m reading a novel called Post Office. It’s by this chaotic writer, Charles Bukowski.” Eris pulled up a chair and set her glass of water down the dining table. Her eyes casted heavenward, bathing in the sight of morning clouds.

     “And I felt something weird while reading it. For some reason, in between the lines, Addie was there.” She said as the sky above falls silent, with only a few birds chirping a cradlesong.

     Benjamin leaned back on his chair, the daylight sifting through the sheer aquamarine curtains and to his earthly eyes. “You love doing that, don’t you?” A smile found its way to his lips. “Finding caricatures of people in fictitious worlds.”

     She grinned softly in light, admiring his introspection. “But Bukowski dissolved even the smallest possibility of the book being for someone. In the first page, he writes that it’s dedicated to no one.”

     “And what makes you think that Adelaine’s an exception?” He asked, stirring his bitter cup of black coffee. 

     “The book seems like it’s breathing her in. Her life is blossoming from the ink.” She grabbed a breakfast muffin from a hand-woven wicker basket. “There’s even this time where he sees other salesmen committing petty thief and says, ‘I wanted the whole world or nothing.’”

     “Which mirrors who she was.” He nodded, getting the sensibility.

     Eris’s lips curled in deep thought. “Though this book really just was an autobiography of Bukowski’s alter-ego, there are anecdotes that made me gasp more than I have ever gasped for nature.”

     The dining hall suddenly lit up vividly as artificial lights were flicked on, unmasking the garden of elongated grass and dull tulips from the large transparent window. There arrived nine Adwell patients who sat with Benjamin and Eris, sparklingly looking like fountain coin wishes from the slight daze in their eyes of wistful drowsiness. Then, the place whiffed off a soft cathartic fragrance and unrelenting daydreams.

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