Each and everyone of the soaked onlookers, in a hauntingly unified gait, began a face-frozen tread toward the center of the sovereign circle where Allie and Zenobia maintained their unyielding clutch.
As a relentless rain pummeled the unfazed guests of this destined ceremony, the shiny spires of massive rock which surrounded the island audibly sighed, and the furious ocean flipped it’s rage to become calm as a mill pond.
Written by Edward Roads
Photo by Edward Roads
Stave IV
The earth and the sea seemed to pause as Allie approached the cut off spectre of, well… where…. and for some reason she couldn’t shake the thought of something called Dock 19.
As the giant grey spotted sea bird circled Brigadoon to locate the drop point, Allie remembered a seated, cordial man when she first arrived at that mysterious shore… humungous table… yes, yes… Shill was his name.
Written by Edward Roads
She hadn’t thought about it earlier, but her cough, in her retreat, returned… quite harsh, with an uncomfortable amount of crimson… then she jumped upon the table wearing worn jeans and a ripped cotton t-shirt, both completely dry from the wavy grass.
She put her tightened hands over her head, crouched to a fetal position, and scrunched her eyes closed, as tight as she knew, before she felt the beast breathing vomit into her ear.
Written by Edward Roads
(Aahh…phee..ohhh… phhhhhh… ooffffgg.. aaaa.. phphphhhhh) with her heart fiercely pounding and breath pulling itself from her lungs, Allie fell upon the slick beach… wet shoreline oozed up between her pruney, grasping fingers when she breathlessly slammed her hands straight down.
Allie stood, then quickly crouched, not because she felt an intense flood of shame in her nudity, but because she clearly saw something round and colorful on that giant table that seemed to govern the top of the beach… the top near the wavy, warm grass.
Written by Edward Roads
She wrestled with the dripping, abstruse memories of her vile dad… and step, by slow step, walked to the calm, at least for now, ocean.
The undulatincey of the cold sea helped her mute that haunting smile… and mom, with those totally bullshit hugs, always seemed to leave the room with her fingers folded before her… Allie Carriag plopped upon the moist, tidal earth and began to undress.
(Written by Edward Roads)
“Sweetheart, I am just trying to show you why we prosper…it’s ok…you’ll remember this and thank me one day beautiful…stop resisting…you stupid… you useless, lazy bitch…like your… wasted…mother…c’mon, your father is talking to you.. “.
Allie opened her knowing, bloodshot eyes, stood straight up in the dank, and walked toward the water.
(Written by Edward Roads)
Should curious souls be brave enough to approach this very small place, said souls would inevitably fall prey to a petulant portion of the Atlantic that callously reduces any craft to an unpredictable skiff of temerity.
Before their imminent demise was at hand, seafarers might glimpse an overwhelming radiance undulating betwixt the formidable spires…the island’s majestic breath.
(Written by Edward Roads)
This time the quiet air seemed to focus her scattered thoughts, instead of transporting them to muddled longitudes and convoluted cerebral precincts that constantly flickered from just beyond arm’s length.
Allie backed up two or three steps, knelt down, and picked up a fairly hefty, discharged syringe with dried blood on the outside… but the disturbing crimson color was also on the inside.
(Written by Edward Roads)
The air is quiet… spotted gray sea birds dangerously race up and down the deep and jagged cliff lines that stoically fringe emerald green rolling landscapes.
An endless and vibrant blue sky seems to govern the soft tidal splash which tickles tiny round stones lying near the top of the pristine berm… Wait, where.. is it.. going…
(Photo: Edward Roads)
(Written by Edward Roads)
Allie, who hadn’t known a blip of happiness in more than 6 years, crept towards the poorly shaved attendant that was seated and staring at all of the new arrivals.
She walked up to a monstrous, scarred oak table, slammed her soft left hand down on dirt and despair, and figured she’d ask what she needed to do to be a citizen. {my God, I just don’t know, was that what I needed to do}
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Ignorance and obdurate indifference are just a couple of the pungent ingredients that mix together in this simmering crock of inconsiderate stew.
Are we not better than this?
Photo: Edward Roads
Written by Edward Roads
Tommy spent most of that frigid afternoon running from an obese, cigar gnawing arrogance that was $30,000 light from a day’s till of blood and muscle.
After a slippery northward drive from a lightly frozen Revere Beach, Tommy pulled into an unused gas station to park his prized possession and grab the stolen contents of it’s massive trunk.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Mick had stopped and was standing bug-eyed amidst the overgrown straw of a long forgotten front lawn when he started to feel funny.
As the sweat began to surface, he pulled a crusty handkerchief out of his back pocket and haphazardly patted his furrowed brow.
(Continued fromMytwosentences 159)
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Lost souls from a yesterday not so long ago walk along a path chosen for them by a brick-and-mortar generation who attempted to understand the direction one might eventually take.
The horizontal wall was carefully constructed as a passage of protection covering the frail, earthly soft textures that were once exposed to coarse elements of an environment continuously moving on the surface.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 