A whimsical dance,

Seamless shapes and

Vibrant colors,

Ever-changing endlessness,

Not a step mistaken,

Beauty untouched.

The dawning sun tinges our deathly pale countenance.

Suddenly, we seem so alive, kinda happier somehow,

The cobwebs, dense thickets of brokenness feel distant.

Away from Yesterday’s snake eyes, ours is us and Now.

We’ve gone far to where Guilt won’t get any entry pass,

Where no shadows of shame nor judgment could stand.

Here, perhaps, we could color the hills, valleys, and sun,

Free from the dictates of the virtuous, codex, nor gods.

Something about abandonment is incoherently human.

Our taking unknown paths, choosing to live as we like,

Such that darkness nor death has no noose around us—

How the Universe spins and stirs shall now be up to us.

Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.

Today on the channel, we push some good product, as usual. Pure, uncut, above any street value or money, the words of these writers have come along to us recently, and we wanted to introduce them to our seasoned Prosers. Also, do a shot every time I say Corner Chicken in the first two minutes of the video. You'll be feeling pretty fine...

Here's the link, and we'll tag the writers along with the big crew in the comment below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBfW7WNYZNM

And...

As always.........

Thank you for being here.

-The Prose. team

The sound of the light switch clicking on broke the silence as if a gun had been fired into the sky. He stood in the doorway and looked at the room like he was seeing it for the first time. The bed they had shared lay empty before him. Her open suitcase, still perfectly organized, sat on the floor of the open closet door. Her reading glasses lay folded on the bedside table as though she had just been wearing them an hour ago. An hour ago she had been breathing.

Joe walked into the room and sat gingerly on the bed. He reached out and lightly touched her pillow. His hand looked old. He hadn’t noticed that before. Where had the time gone? They had built a life together. They had two daughters who were now motherless. What was he going to do? He wanted to crawl between the sheets and go to sleep. He wanted to stop the thoughts and images that overtook his mind. He wanted to talk to her about all of this. He needed her to help him figure out how to go on.

It took every last bit of energy he had to get up off the bed. His sister had been kind enough to book him a flight home. He had to get to his girls. They would need him now more than they ever had. Julie had raised them. He was their dad, but he was an attorney. He was at the office before they got up and often there until long after they were asleep. They were teenagers. What did he know about raising teenage girls?

He walked to her suitcase and fingered the delicate folded items. He picked up a shirt that lay on top of one of the neat piles and pressed it against his face. His knees started to buckle and he knelt on the floor there in the closet. Her scent overtook him. He didn’t know if it was laundry detergent, her soap, her lotion, or just…her.

You and me together

riding through the canyon

blues on the radio

my hand on your thigh

I pull to the side of the road

you lock the doors

we remove our clothes

carelessly thrown about

we’re both highly excited

you’re moist and I’m hard

you climb on top

riding me to the rhythm

of the throbbing blues

we smile together

as we erupt in pleasure

orgasmic vibrations lead to

the afterglow of love

our calculated redressing

we get back on the road

blues on the radio

riding through the canyon

You and Me together

The strike of the serpent's bite...

Enveloped in it's shocking strike one tends to freeze and shudder...

Melting to this moment like the butter on some grill...

She sees symbiotic...

It is night time, we are necking...

Naked on the outskirts...

Flirting on a hill at night...

She's disposed of shirt and bra...

I flow up and down her hill...

Up, and down, and on the level...

Over hills, and dales entwined,

We will fuck into that night...

Digger bee, and wasp homes we make

With all our elemental thrusting!...

Brought to a screaming climax, sealed eagerness on wings...

Want to fall into you like some duel eternal faint...

Watch the gate as it bangs shut on you and me...

You stare down, you see your man...

A copperhead slides out from betwixt

Shuddering legs...

The dudes been bit from sitting down too fast!...

After effective fuck that causes quivering in loins,

You see him die there from a snake bite...

Brings it all into perspective, right?...

The cold winds howl down so strong...

She's now wondering where he went wrong...

3/29/23

Bunny Villaire

I adore you

Wild spirit

Unabashed soul

Deep and dark mind...

Please sidle right up

Alongside mine

Even if for

Just a short time

To me the allegory of the cave represents the base level of rationality. For one to be a realist he has to be able to break free from the confinement of the cave. The false perception of reality which one is presented with while being in the cave comes back to materialize itself and become one's true reality. Hence I use the term 'Boomerang of Reality'. Without freeing yourself from the shackles of the cave and seeing the source of the cave's 'perceived' reality in the bare flesh, one can never grasp the truth and can never learn what the real world has to offer. 'The death of fake reality reveals the truth of actual reality before one's eyes'. That's the best way I can sum it up. Now in terms of the cave's shackles one can argue that dogmatic beliefs or the indoctrination at birth is the main constituent of these shackles. Similarly the unanimously accepted societal beliefs and the pre defined 'acceptable' way of thinking are also shackles that bind us to the mouth of the cave. I consider understanding the allegory of the cave as the first and most important step in the path towards intellectualism and critical thinking, both of which are essential towards the completion of self actualization and the maximization of one's true potential!

The drab, cramped storeroom in back doubled as a makeshift locker room. Renee had no purse to sit next to those piled already on the small table, awaiting more. An ID and the little cash she managed to have on hand fit into the back pocket. Her much-needed cell found a safe home next to the register once she went on the clock. Between two stacks of unopened boxes hung a mirror erected by the employees. The unadorned cartons held pint-sized glasses. All waiting to replace those stolen or broken by patrons, bartenders and wait staff. Drunk or sober. Before her pale reflection, she double-checked her simple makeup. That and her straight, shoulder-length hair. She should use the restroom. But even this early, the two sinks and mirrors therein would find a girl or two or three crowded in front, touching up their already enhanced looks.

A step back. The short-sleeved shirt exposed her midsection. Low-rise jeans encased her legs and hips. Glancing them over for perfection was useless. They worked and were comfortable. It didn’t matter. She’d get ogled and hit on no matter what. The phone numbers and pathetic notes passed to her found their way into the trash, not the faded pockets.

Enough cynicism. She headed to the door, eyeing Tammy’s oversized, frayed, faux leather purse holding God knows what. A great gal. She’d end up asking about Jason and her. Attempts to keep her hormones focused elsewhere failed. Oft times she got the impression Tammy lived a vicarious sex life through her.

Speaking of life, rent came to mind. Due in a couple of weeks, and the other roommate moved out last month. The cost of the three-bedroom loft required one job paying a lot or three or more, each paying a little. Students attending the nearby university would get together and lease such a place for their time in college. Chloe and she avoided such an environment, but economics might cause both to bend. So… the tips best be good tonight. And tomorrow. And the next day. Then again, Jason planned on stopping by. Maybe Bill might let her go early tonight. A night with Jason or rent. Tough call.

With a reluctant stride, she headed out and to the server station. So begins her shift.