Leaky fountain pencil's StoriesI try not to think when I write. I feel that makes it too much science, too little art. Too much like baking, not enough like cooking.2008-01-28T20:44:25Zhttp://ficlets.com/feeds/author/lfpdebSemantics<p>A: “Hello? Oh, really? Good, good… Okay, thanks. “</p>
<p>B: “Who was that?”</p>
<p>A: “Nobody.”</p>
<p>B: ”... No, that had to be somebody.”</p>
<p>A: “Indeed.”</p>
<p>B: ”... Then who was it?”</p>
<p>A: “I just said, it was nobody.”</p>
<p>B: “But it can’t be nobody if it’s somebody!”</p>
<p>A: “Well, nobody is still somebody, it just doesn’t mean that he’s anybody.”</p>
<p>B: “What?”</p>
<p>A: “Exactly.”</p>
<p>B: “No, explain that!”</p>
<p>A: “Fine. He’s nobody, but he’s not just anybody, which means that he can’t be everybody, and therefore must be somebody. However, even in being somebody, he is nobody. So why you would care why this somebody who is nobody might be anybody, I don’t know, but you shouldn’t.”</p>
<p>B: ”... I hate you.”</p>http://ficlets.com/stories/154312007-12-07T12:59:56Z2008-01-28T20:44:25ZLeaky fountain pencilhttp://ficlets.com/authors/lfpdebMoonlight beauty<p>Seeing her is like waking up from a bad dream.</p>
<p>She stands by the bedroom window, looking out onto the alley below. A white nightgown glowing in the moonlight. Lifting myself up, I go to her side. Her hair like black silk, entangling my fingers as I stroke her head.</p>
<p>Then she turns to me. Looks at me. Looks at me with those sad, sad eyes. And her lips, her full red lips, start moving, but no voice comes out. Why? Why can’t I hear her? When it’s been so long, when I’ve longed so much, where has her voice gone?</p>
<p>Then I realize what she’s saying.</p>
<p>“I’m gone now. Forget about me.”</p>
<p>I try to embrace her, try to keep her here. I never want to let her go. But it’s too late. The dream shattered and blew away, like shards of glass in a hurricane.</p>
<p>I sit up. My cat flies off the bed, alarmed by my sudden movement. I look to the window, but she’s gone. No white gown. No black hair. No red lips. Not a trace of such a woman.</p>
<p>Wait.</p>
<p>Who <em>was</em> that?</p>
<p>God, I hate my dreams.</p>http://ficlets.com/stories/152382007-12-05T01:42:08Z2008-01-21T04:52:47ZLeaky fountain pencilhttp://ficlets.com/authors/lfpdebAutumn Leaf Haiku<p>the wind blows around<br />embracing me with light arms<br />i fall from my tree</p>
<p>they come towards me<br />trodding with their heavy steps<br />girls talk about boys</p>
<p>their feet fall near me<br />but the wind lifts me away<br />they hold down their skirts</p>
<p>i dance on the wind<br />overwhelmed, vulnerable<br />with many others</p>
<p>though it lets me down<br />i see another foot near<br />i die with a crunch</p>http://ficlets.com/stories/152342007-12-05T01:02:29Z2008-01-02T19:01:48ZLeaky fountain pencilhttp://ficlets.com/authors/lfpdeb