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B is for Small Thoughts

We search for it. We yearn to receive it. But how many of us actually give it?

I have become the Godtick. I stay close. Under His skin. Call me a parasite. Call me a pain. Maybe. But... buried under His skin. I find... nutrients. And a glow. Maybe I let go now. Nah, I much prefer my host.

15 Minutes:
He pushes past. Past the yelling cars and the train wreck of screaming people. He sees the clouds. And the faintest scent of water tells him to walk... faster! Lord, he says. Lord! Just give me 15 minutes to get home. You know what happens when rain touches my skin. Still, the scent of rain grew closer. He runs. Faster. Dodging the first drop. And the third. And the fifth. And in 7 1/2 minutes he is inside. Just before hell was doused by the deluge. Why God. I asked for 15, he says panting. And yet, as you pushed yourself, came the reply, you realised... all you needed... was seven. Go change your clothes.


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B is for The Haunting October

--> I first felt it in the shower. Nostalgia. Creeping up my leg and resting on my shoulder. Bony fingers caresses in that sickeningly sweet way nostalgia often does. It was the end of September or the beginning of October... That night in the shower when I remembered an old October, reading poetry at a wine factory; with sandwiches as big as your face. And I remembered two tables. Friends and a girl. And it was October. The sealing of fate. 2008.
Days passed but not before the memory of darkness and a knife. The surgery that changed me... And it was October. October or go to Heaven. 2007.
Time passed and so did my expectations. Fluctuations in blood flow in the head causes heart to flutter for another. Infatuation of the highest order. The beginning of tears and sighs of"it's not fair" and the wandering nature of soul; I'm done, turn me over. And it was October. All my queries I vowed to shelve. 2012.
And Sunday. When I threw the scroll and claimed I was don…