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Literature Text
Did you know that in WWII pilots used to travel across the Arctic, north north north in the endless dark and the endless freeze, in order to avoid flying over enemy ground? America to Britain, heat to heat, war surging and boiling and seething to the south, angry and red as a wound, and all this dreadful cold in between. Flying with just the roar of the engines and the whistle of the wind and the hush of your own breath, over emptiness and ice - but how could you find your way? The stars are different, up there. They spin in frozen circles. And planes would get lost, because the men couldn’t read the night sky that had always been their woman, their guide. Their compasses would wander aimlessly as would their plane, wandering aimlessly through the night. Those men were alone. Truly alone. They no longer knew their earth and their heaven. The needle did not point to north any more. They sat in metal birds at the top of the world, lost as little children.
Literature
The encounter
I looked forward to see a dragons huge chest close enough for me to touch. I look up to see the dragons long neck.
It wasn’t a giant dragon, but it wasn’t tiny. It could swallow me whole though I bet it could.
There was a lump moving from its head down to its neck. It must have just swallowed something. I watched as the lump quickly moved down the dragons neck , then disappeared into its chest. I could hear whatever it swallowed as it entered its stomach, but I could hear something else as well.
I could hear a heartbeat. I knew it wasn’t mine, I could tell the heart must have been in its check right in front of me, or some
Literature
Matchstick
irreplaceable yet unnecessary
leave me in your retrospect
where you found me, unwanted & with a question mark over my head
or a Matchstick, maybe
I'm the fire you started &
couldn't put out
the one you doused &
the One you'll freeze without.
Literature
Triscuits
Jenna comes into the room with a packet of triscuits
And offers me some.
They are salted. I don't like salted foods;
They're too much like the ocean.
Jenna, skintight leggings,
Comes into the room with a packet of trisctuits.
They make an odd noise as they're chewed,
Like the grunts of a broken bone.
Jenna used to sail the seas but now
She can just open a packet of triscuits and tell me
How much she loves the prairie wind.
'Cause it's endless like that, 'cause it's yellow like that.
She looks at me with a mouth fulla triscuits and she dares say
That the house is too empty.
It's got walls and a floor and you're saying that you wa
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They are still finding them in the ice, planes stuck like splinters
Dad told me this story in his unromantic pragmatic way and it really got to me I guess
EDIT Featured here: writersink.deviantart.com/jour… and here: writersink.deviantart.com/jour…
© 2014 - 2024 Meggie272
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That was a beautiful piece of writing. The truth behind it adds to its power.