The Little Things

Tiny micro explosions, one after another, lit up the night sky in a cascading array of magentas, periwinkles and mulberry, accented by warm yellows and golds, a momentary distraction utilizing everything that is beautiful living inside the fire. Even the soulless ones, with clouded empty eyes, were taken aback as their heads tilted towards the heavens unblinkingly.

The degradation of pathways in their once human brains would soon enjoy their form of pyro techniques as neurons started firing once more. Reminding them that we were now their food source while simultaneously forgetting that once we would call each other family.From Guest Contributor J. Iner Souster

Why Do I Lose My Voice When I Have Something to Say?

Jo cleared her throat. She'd prepared for this moment from the instant an audience had been granted. This was a safe space to share her story, to give voice to all the degradation she'd suffered at his hands. She would finally see justice done.

Instead, when her time arrived and the judge called her to the stand, Jo found she was unable to speak. It was everything that she feared. Just like during the interrogation. At the inquest. During the trial. The truth was they'd arrived at this moment despite her many failures.

Maybe she didn't deserve justice after all.