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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
Thank you! I love evoking emotions in readers.
But in “The Blue Lagoon” (part two), the heroes actually survived. In my story – no. No chance 😉
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
I agree with Al this was unsettling. Well written and conveyed allot not leaving the mind to wonder what happened next.
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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
Thank you 🙂
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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
D. Ignatov wrote a new post
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Read MoreVika carelessly pulled her jacket over herself, habitually wrapped a scarf around her neck, and left the apartment. Even this now seemed unnecessary and excessive. Why bother? With the decision made, it was completely pointless. Except perhaps to smoke...
6 Comments-
![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
What a story. I like the banter back and forth between them and how she actually listened to the old man when he talked. The conversation about brings loved one’s back is one I find interesting because would they want to come back to this world in the state it is in? Welcome to Stars Rite
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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
Thank you! I’m glad you liked the story 🙂
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![Profile picture of Damian DeadLove]()
Powerfully penned, D. Excellent storytelling my friend. Welcome to Stars Rite. Appreciate you.
Damian
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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
Thank you very much! 🙂
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![Profile picture of Adelphina]()
Interest concept for a short story. The search for immortality in technology. It’s right around the corner which makes this write right on time! Enjoyed the read.
My finance very much wants to have his consciousness downloaded and saved. I’m not so sure. Lol
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![Profile picture of D. Ignatov]()
Thank you for your kind words. I think one way or another we’ll all become immortal in the stars 🙂
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![Profile picture of Broom]()
Broom changed their profile picture
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Styxian wrote a new post
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Read MoreI pretend that melancholy tastes like caramel.One is a treat, both are rare for me.How both linger like a pest,one in head, one on teeth.Her skin was caramel.Her neck, a spoon dipped in mocha.The collar of her shirt relaxed,while she rolled the paintup and down the wall.A second coat of white,trying to bury the purple."Who does that?!" She exclaimed,as she fretted with her hairfeathering down onto her lip.I didn't think she expected an answer,so I didn't offer one.Probably had been a girl's room,around fifteen, undecidedif she liked red or blue,so she subconsciously went mixed with them.Her parents could barely affordthis beach house, so she had done with itwhat she could, for this time in being.But it's Annie's place now.I am just a sand walker,looking for shells. Intriguedby this caramel woman I sawlugging paint cans into her house.I guess I looked safe; older,thin, with pretended wisdom upon my face.Annie let me in.So many windows, sunlight sentcalm rays into the room.Crackles of sand glitteredupon the ceramic floor-some still gatheredin the shape of toes.Annie didn't notice, asI placed my foot beside her footprints,pretending we were walking along the shore.-Maybe tomorrow, once she knows mewell enough, if I can stretch out this day.She had sun-tea, some sugar, no ice.And I recalled, there's that caramel colorthat I can't avoid.Maybe later, when the sun once againmocks suicide of itself, out on the water,we will pretend the stars are ice,crinkling through our tea glasses,when we hold them up.She's still rolling, though.I grab the brush and beginto second coat the trim."You don't have to do that", she says.Yet something about the waythe brush glides, wet, slick,covering every inch...I tell her that I enjoy painting.Upon the wall, by the door, a crucifix.Her mom insisted. To bless the housefrom demons and probably sins.Because Annie is still young enoughto partake of christening the houseover and over again, with less thanhonorable men.Summer can be intolerable,without an outlet for her simmering.If she starts talking about her fatherthen I know I am doomed.It means I remind her of him.My fantasy will crash,like an ugly pelican into the ocean.So far, though, she just complainsabout the seagulls shittingon her little wooden porch.Yeah, it's one of the negativesof a beach house. Butat night they settle down.Two hours of small talk followand long strokes of her paint roller.I glimpse over my hand at her,as I run the brush overthe bedroom door. I peek inside; her bed is smalland I am the tall mast of a sailboat,without the benefit of sailsfilling me out.-There's always the comfort of spooning,curling, fetal positioned.That faint security we can't recall,from when we were just infant minded.Subconsciously wanting some form of return.Annie wants to walk the beach.Changes her shirt, to a white blouse.Her areolas unashamed, as they stare at methrough the barely shy veiling.My impulses screaming inside me;I'd marry her today.Divorce in the Autumn, but for nowhoneymoon for ninety days.As we strolled, I found a white feather, drenched,offered to the land-lockedby the generous ocean.I twirled it dry, best I could,then handed it to Annie.Maybe an angel was on its way to her,but fell short, into the sea.So it sent me.Maybe she's thinking about curtains,or the gasping sound of the old refrigerator.I remind her, because I know the feeling,of how in the morning, the wavesfollow the breeze onto the shore.How the first calls of the seagullsare calm, stretching their wings,waiting for the coming morselsfrom clumsy beach goers.I will take Annie's clumsiness,if she wants to falterduring our gracefulnessof painting over the purple.These bruised walls, of a fifteen year old'sbroken heart, a summer ago.When her own angel fell into the sea.We trudge through the deep sand,back to the bungalow.“Wanna stay tonight?”, she offers, as she runs the feather over her lips.I don’t think she meant...
17 Comments-
![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
I love how you put so much nuance into this piece.
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Details are the building blocks, yeah? Sometimes it’s too easy for me to write ones like this. I’m good at visuals. I could literally live within the writes. But really, it’s what we notice, the nuances, yes, that make a moment memorable. And life is all about the moments.
Thank you, Fia. Keep rockin!
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![Profile picture of Honoria]()
Dear M,
It was as though I could smell the paint. The ocean. Feel the sand on my feet. And then came the morning…I really enjoyed the storytelling of this May-December romance. The live for this moment process feels so prevalent in this write. Wonderful piece. H🌷
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Well lookie who showed up! How’s you?! It’s good to see you popping in.
I appreciate your visit and comment. I liked the build of this write.
I kept visualizing it off and on for days. It could have been much longer, but i spared myself and the readers. LOL.
It’s more like August-October, though, in reality!
You ready to post some of your own material now? It’s been awhile!
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![Profile picture of Adelphina]()
This feels good. Nothing is rushed – it just is in the moment.
It’s like you turned seconds into an un-rushed comfortable stretch into the next.
I love how you created this beginning for your characters and moved them into possibilities with a beautiful sunset.
Even the sheets played a very cool visual – comparing them to sails.Loved it! And you. I’m so lucky to get both:)
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
I just changed the title. This one is more appealing.
At any rate, thank you Sir Damian! It was an idea, with a little real person added in. LOL. I’m just trying to stretch my creative muscles a bit! -
![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Well, you do have an influence on much of my ideas… The feminine aspects and such.
You’re right, I didn’t think about the easy pacing of this/them. But it’s there huh. Good observation!
Hey, nice avatar! I get to kiss that face!!!! -
![Profile picture of Crimsin]()
hello dearest Styxian you are a beautiful storteller I felt the easy way you told it like the tide ebb and flow and like the tide building… I wonder at end if your coffee black you had enough of her caramel… great write ❤️
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Thank you, Crims! I actually drink mocha (coffee, cocoa, and milk).
I like writing my stories. They are mini’movies to me. As long as there is someone who enjoys reading them, I will post some.
So thank you for the encouraging comment. It helps my motivation.
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![Profile picture of I_IS_ ME]()
Great piece dude, totally love it. Do you know at one point the post of the poem “Footprints” popped into our head? Tight
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Remind me of that poem. I know of the one about being carried by God or Jesus or something like that. No?
Oh wait, I get the connection.
Thanks a dual bunch! LOL I keep trying to come up with original ideas/writes, to keep me warmed up creatively.
I’m supposed to be putting all my best writes together for my book. But I keep editing them more! Argh.
Hope you are well, We. 😉
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![Profile picture of I_IS_ ME]()
Dude your pieces are great, they are original and relatable. Our mind relaxes while reading your pieces and we see calming things
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
I do write some brutal truth stuff, rarely. Creative writing is my happy place, so yeah, usually I try to balance good with bad etc. Life needs light.
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![Profile picture of Ghosteen]()
I really like this Mark. When I joined sites decades ago. this was the kind of poetry I wished to encounter. I’ve learnt so much from Americana (though I have worked with Americans) some of it has been a nefarious experience, but mainly, it has had a massive positive influence in my little Welsh world. Your movies are inspiring.
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Well, I’ve mentioned before that my biggest influence are the writings of a little ol Chinese lady! Yet I’ve also taken in so many other writers’ works into my brain, from several cultures. I literally love unique concepts and viewpoints from so many avenues. It does mold us, when we open our minds to what is out there.
So thank you, Rob. But in return, your writes make me think, and thus expand too. You are noticed and learnt from.-
![Profile picture of FlatDaddy]()
Well, we haven’t met except for a quick comment you made on my “Creepy Old Cat” piece. So I thought I’d take a peek at your work and found this little gem. Nice work, too. You have a good eye for imagery and nuance.
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
Thanks FlatDaddy. I do try!
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
Betty wrote a new post
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Read MoreShe came up behind me as I was taking off my makeup, and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Vienes a la cama, Amor?” Are you coming to bed, love? I smiled and closed my eyes. She didn’t initiate often, but fuck. Just...
15 Comments-
![Profile picture of Backdeckbenny (Peter)]()
Based on this artiusing piece, I think in my next life I’d like to be a woman.
Great write.
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
Thanks Peter, it’s the fucking best.
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![Profile picture of Damian DeadLove]()
Passionately penned, Betty. Excellent storytelling per usual really love the layers in your writes. Appreciate you.
Damian
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
Thanks Damian. It’s so much harder for me to write this narrative voice, and I appreciate that you foind nuance.
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![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Stinking, reeking, sweating womanly sex – so hot my knees are trembling!
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
Mine were too. WLW smells like gardenias and jasmine… fucking glorious shit.
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![Profile picture of Harriet-Jacqui xx]()
Gardenias and Jasmine! Aren’t you the lucky one, girl?! Cherish the moment! Harriet-Jacqui Furl writing as HJ Furl on Amazon.
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
Why, why did this have to end? lol I know life continues but this is hot.
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
I mean, we had to work. 🙂
When it was one of THOSE nights with the one who got away, it feels like it never ends… god above… it feels like eternity in every steaming breath. Smooth skin and soft breasts and held-breath cries… yeah. It feels forever.
Thanks for dropping in Fia and supporting me. I don’t know what I’m doing right now, but I’m appreciative to have space to stretch my fingers and figure it out.
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
You are welcome to do that here. Betty
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
What the hell?! You literally described Del. And in another subliminal way that I noticed, because I’m kinda like rain man sometimes. LOL. So what if I’m quirky!
BTW, if I was a female, I’d be lesbian. I get it.
Your erotica is intense and not pornish. That is because you are a skilled writer!
I’m still waiting for more of your heady writes. But I know you’re on a purge. So have at it. Thankfully you’re good at all subject matter.-
![Profile picture of Betty]()
Bro, when I said I’d fucking take your woman from you if you were an asshole? I MEANT it. I’d totally steal your woman from you. (She’s hot!)
Thanks. The intimacy is so, so different, and structuring it in a way that was less textbook and more opera is still challenging. I might write for my gay half for a while. (My straight half has had the shit kicked out of it for some years.)
I don’t know what’s next as Betty. I don’t know if she has much left in the way of heady writing. We shall see.
Love you bro. I mean, really. (Be good to your girl or else!)
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
She is incredible. So I’m not an asshole just for her! LOL.
“Betty” needs to celebrate being Betty across a few topics, etc. You have a very human way with words that everyone can relate to, and wish that they themselves had the inner voice to get down in words. So embrace it all. You are very well rounded.
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![Profile picture of I_IS_ ME]()
Really love the go between you and Styxian, great commenting. The piece can’t be denied for it’s steaminess, it’s like watching a flick, tight
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![Profile picture of Betty]()
Styx is seriously my brother-from-another-mother. Glad you dug it my friend. Really glad.
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Unsettling and very depressing, Dmitry. All those post-apocalyptic stories are horrid in their own way, but this was extra painful as the main characters were kids. Your story reminded me of the movie The Blue Lagoon from 1980. Two teenagers stranded on a deserted island and tried to cope with the situation the best they could. They even had a baby of their own, and at some point they saw no other way out, and decided to end their lives by eating some poisonous berries …
Al