Sunday, October 28, 2012

Shadow (Poem)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.


There are shadows farther than the eye can see.

Hallows deeper than the soul can breathe.

Places of solace, set aside from pain

In these shadows, things lurk

Big things, little things, harsh things

Cruel things, sweet things, tiny things

Things to make you laugh,

Things to make you cry

Things to make you wish,

You could grow up and cry

In these things, shadows live

They thrive, they sigh and they grieve

Beneath layers of feelings and thoughts stretched thin

Shadows upon shadows worn like film

(c) Sara Harricharan

Monday, October 22, 2012

Forth (Flash Fiction)

Found on google Images. I own nothing.


Go forth and light up the world.

Set it on fire with the passion of ages.

Let it blaze and glow as it burns down walls and barriers that ought to have vanished centuries ago.

Tear off the irons and shackles of oppression and distress.

Give in.

Give in.

Show me what you are made of.

Prove that you deserve to live.

Share your soul with the same fervor in which you defy death.

Go ahead.

Go forth.

I dare you to live.

Sara Harricharan ^_^

A/N: And a context for this one, I'd think it would be something for a master to student or a feisty main character with a little bit of attitude towards an injured party in their traveling troupe, convincing them to continue on with the quest. Thanks for reading!

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Walls (Poem)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.


Title: Four Walls

Four walls closing in on me.
Why is it never more? Why is it always four?
Is there something I am missing?
Maybe I need a new room.
One with rounded corners and no sharp edges.
One that will cradle and coddle me, so the wounds in my back will fade.
Time will heal them. Regret will scar them. Experience might help me ignore them.
But these walls? These walls bear witness.
And I cringe at the story I have told them.

(c) Sara Harricharan

A/N: This somehow didn't turn into fiction. Yeah. Way to go poetry....ho-hum. ^_^

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Combine (Flash Fiction)

Found on Google Images. I own nothing.


“Combine our efforts?” Della stared at the homeroom teacher for a full minute. She perched one perfectly manicured hand on her petite waist and wrinkled her nose. “You want me to actually…participate?”

Mrs. Donovan sighed. The air of an adult having grown used to repeating themselves as if only to hear the sound of their own voice. “Yes Miss Della,” She circled around the little desk. “We would prefer if you two were to actually use your-”

“We’ve got it Mrs. D.” Anabelle interrupted, hurriedly. She scurried across the homeroom, wiping her hands on the front of her hoodie. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be late, there was a line–bathroom–you know,” she gestured off-handedly to the hallway. Her snapping green eyes flickered over the glass beakers, plastic mixing spoon and metal basin. “Oooh, are we doing page fifty-four?” She rocked forward on pink converse sneakers. “Tell me we’re doing page fifty-four.” The brunet snatched up the mixing spoon and began to tap it in her other hand. “I wanna mix.”

Mrs. Donovan stared between them. She heaved a sigh and turned away. “So as long as you complete the assignment!”

Anabelle waited until the teacher was well out of hearing rang. She reached into her hoodie’s kangaroo pocket and handed over a handful of dry paper. “Here. Give it to Shayna and hurry back.”

The blonde hesitated, then leaned forward on the pretense of inspecting her best friend’s earrings. She slipped the paper under the edge of her miniskirt and crossed the room a moment later, to where a redhead sat in the chair in the corner.

Della dropped the paper in Shayna’s lap and continued on as if she were heading to the washing station for another glass beaker. “Quit being a crybaby.” She hissed, softly. “They hired us to ruin their worlds, not to ruin ours.”

The sniffling cadet shuffled to her feet and blew her nose quietly. A moment later, she trailed after Della. “…Thanks.”

“Thank Anabelle.” Della filled an empty beaker and pretended to measure the water. “She’s the one who risked a demerit for that.”

Shayna huffed. “I don’t expect you to understand, it’s paper.”


“So, when you combine them, I can do this.” Shayna snapped her fingers. A flicker of pink-orange flame exploded in the palm of her hand, dancing over it. “Got a problem?”

“Watch it!” Della flicked a wet hand at the dancing flames. “Do you want to give us away?”

(c) Sara Harricharan