Restoration

The ground is still wet from the previous night's thunderstorm. You lay awake on the grass, beams of sun rays shine on your face. You look up, sleepy clouds trail the sky like herds of elephants through the African Savanna. A single bird lands on a leafless tree branch right above your head. It starts humming a gentle tune, welcoming the new day. A song of hope and optimism. The whole world around you seems to have been cleansed, and so does your soul. You feel as fresh as a new born. You inhale the sweet fragrance of the morning dew, you close your eyes, and silently whisper a little prayer of gratitude.

Helpless

You're surrounded by dark clouds. They circle you , almost suffocating you. You can feel darkness inside of you. You try to run, only to realize, you are running underneath the same sky, the same clouds, the same darkness.
Stones start falling from the sky. Cold white stones. Like sharp bullets they rip through the misty air, hitting you hard on your head, your shoulders, your back, even your face.
You hear a loud angry noise. You look up, the sky glows with a sharp searing blue light, so powerful, you almost feel the sky is being ripped apart. The very place you call home suddenly seems unfamiliar. Your bones are soaked, your head is heavy, and you feel pathetic, vulnerable, and miserable. There is no place you can turn to, no shield to hide under. Water streaming down your face, hot tears making their way through the streams of cold, heartless rain. You collapse and fall to your knees. In a moment like this, there is only one thing you could do. You raise you hands and cry "help me! Only You can help me!"

When the Light Goes Out

There was complete darkness. Her eyes widen, like a curious child listening to the tales of a daring adventurer. In a sea of black emptiness, she felt that she existed no longer.
She could see colorful stars blinking everywhere. She tries to touch them, only to realize they are an illusion of that darkness. She could swim in that darkness, float, on its never ending waves. Dive into its deep bottomless pit.
She became a part of it.
Moments seem like hours, and they fly right by her. Her eyes get accustomed to the darkness, they absorb every last bit of it, draining all of it out. Shapes start forming around her. Blood starts flowing back into her numb limbs. She could feel herself once again. She looks up, purple street lights dance on her ceiling, welcoming her back to existence. She is alive again, she regains her sight. Only this time, everything she sees sparkles before her in the darkest shade of navy blue.

*Based on a personal experience

My Encounter With Turkish Coffee

A Very Short Story
*Based on a personal experience

I held the Turkish coffee pot in my hand. The water was boiling. I added two spoonfuls of Turkish coffee powder, and watched as the water absorbed the powder, they blended together softly and formed a thick substance. It began to boil, forming large bubbles. They began rising and rising, I removed the pot quickly, fearing the dark liquid would spill all over the stove. The bubbles calmed down and the liquid continued to boil calmly. I placed the pot on the stove-top again. The dark bubbles started to rise again. This time I let them. They reached half way through the pot, roaring vigorously. I defied them, daring them to overflow, pushing them to their limit. The bubbles kept rising. They reached the edge of the pot. I prepared myself for the worse; black liquid bursting out of the pot, spilling all over the stove-top, flowing down and forming a puddle on the ground. A nightmare.
They rose above the edge, this is it, I thought, now they are going to explode all over the place. My heart raced as I watched them. I waited. They kept flowing rapidly, an inch above the edge of the pot. I waited for the first drop to make it's way down the pot's walls, inviting the other billion drops to follow. But nothing happened. They kept rising, simmering, defying gravity with their energetic dance, and I kept waiting, looking at them with bewilderment, wondering whether I had won the bet.

Miss Perfection

Miss Perfection
Originally uploaded by Midnight.Silver

Everything is perfect in Miss Perfection’s prefect little world. She is flawless. She has the most perfect little face, perfect hair, and a perfect smile.
Everyone envied Miss Perfection and her perfect life

She lives in a perfect house, in a perfect little village. She has perfect friends, and a perfect little cat. She loves to spend afternoons in her perfect garden. She loves to bake perfect little cakes, and host perfect tea parties for her perfect friends.

But no matter how perfectly perfect Miss Perfection’s perfect life seems, underneath her smile is nothing but hollow darkness, and perfect emptiness.
Cold nothingness lies beyond the borders of her perfect little village.
She is but an image, a few words, a victim of imagination. Her soul is trapped beneath her wax skin for eternity. She can never be free.

There Was an Old Flower That Lived in a Shoe...

There Was an Old Flower That Lived in a Shoe...
Originally uploaded by Midnight.Silver

Fluffy was a happy little flower growing in a happy little field with its happy little friends. Fluffy would wake up each morning when gentle sunrays would kiss its happy little face to announce the beginning of the new day.
Fluffy and friends would spend the whole day enjoying the cool breeze, fluttering as the sweet wind blows through their petals, whispering sweet lullabies as it passes them by.
Bumble bees would come visiting every now and then. Beautiful butterflies would spread their wings around them and dance a merry little dance. And when the sun says good night, and sends its golden farewell kisses across the fields, Fluffy and friends would all curl up in their grassy beds, and watch the shiny little stars twinkle in joy across the midnight sky. Good old Moon would spread its warm silver charms, and Fluffy would fall soundly asleep and dream of all things sweet.
Fluffy would not trade the humble little field it calls home for all the riches of the world.

But Fluffy’s happy little life would not continue to be a happy one. For Fluffy was taken away from the happy little field, and placed in an old shoe by the windowsill.

Everyday became harder for Fluffy to bear! The sweet little memories began to fade, and so did Fluffy’s beautiful petals. And before Fluffy realized, the young little flower that was once happy and full of life, became a wilted, old, lifeless flower.
Sometimes Fluffy would hear the sweet lullabies the gentle wind once sang, and the buzzing of bumble bees. But only to realize, the sounds are only illusions disturbing Fluffy’s weak and saddened mind.
And this is how poor little Fluffy spent the rest of its days… in an old shoe, by the windowsill.