Shancia Speaks: Short Stories Superb!

They are scattered all around in a dull splash of hurt, remorse, anger, regret, animosity, envy and bitterness. The leaves have odd shapes and their weight deal painful blows as they fall to ground. The mother tree is such a wretch and has been creating havoc for decades. She revels in the mischief of her falling leaves.  The woman bends down, tired and weary, and amasses them one by one. Her blistered hands are calloused as she maneuvers with the giant rake. Her sack grows heavy in no time at all and she labours down the winding road, back strained and bending from the ponderous collection of the leaves. Their tips are mucronate, piercing holes through the dirty sack, and jabbing the woman all about. Blood spills and starts to run over but she must endure the journey to cast them off, over the cliff of forgiveness. The woman treads on, persistent and courageous and then the most mysterious thing occurs.  The leaves' edges are so sharp and their mass so burdensome that the hol...

Look out for them! Eyes wide open, for they are surely all about. The saintly faces whose hideous souls hide behind famous bible verses and motivational quotes that their fingers fail to reach. Look out for them! The disguise of scrutiny holders, holders of judgement over your life, whose eyes burn at your presence, whose lips curl in aguish at your light, whose eyes reflect disgust because "how dare you, be you?' Look out for them! The ones who pretend to listen but whose lips and tongues are already armored to claw you to the ground. Take heed of them! They wear the loveliest smiles but look well when they watch you, how they stare from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as if Jesus was somehow hidden upon your skin. They can never hear what you say because the fixation upon you is so fierce that they ears reside under their feet. The treacherous ones who declare, "I will pray for you," while with a heart beaming and laughing that you are the one in th...

The shadow reluctantly trails its owner, dark with anguish because of the uncertainty that looms. A brand-new environment comes creeping in sight and the shadow cowers at the feet of its body. "I do not know anyone," he whispers. "I wish I was back in my old room," he complains. Strange faces pop here and there, and he is forced to peep, shyly though, and almost crumbling at the thought of him being seen. But then the light bounces upon the concrete playground and forces him out and he shrieks! Certainly not ready to say hello, he does so weakly, his voice breaks and the tears stab a little, almost ready to burst out. Quickly, he retreats but the light is more intense and here it comes forcefully pulling the shadow out. He will learn today that new beginnings are meant to be explored but really....can he? The shadow leaps and bounds in a wretched game of hide and seek, losing miserably to the light. All of this is brand new; he surely misses his old home. He yearns ...

Judas sat still, with an unforgiving chockehold threatening the air in his lungs as the news of his misgivings were announced by the grim reaper. She relished his exposure and loved that it was at the sting of the poison in her hands. Suffocation intended, no pun. The irresponsibility of the actions of Judas would sever bonds with no hope of repair. Something leaked.....which cause Judas to swell with anxiety and the drippity drop of regret. He would soon learn that a mouth kept shut prevents wounds that can easily bleed incessantly.  In the middle of the "trial of Alice", the mad hatters were jeering all around, pointing fingers and grinning happily, that it was him, not them. All hail the deceiver, the first and only one in the world to be peeled off his veil of "which side should I take?" What a cruel way to be skinned, huh?......straight from the flesh in the presence of the crowd, with tense tendons tarnished by treacherous telltale. Judas would learn today. Si...

We dare to make plans, yet we do not expect God to laugh. That is exactly the jab that Emma feels sitting alone, on yet another dreary Sunday night. Stuck in a labyrinth, surrounded by dull, grass hedges, full of thorns and absolutely opaque.....the way out seems catastrophic. She remembers her giddy professions; how eager she was to escape routine and unwind but instead she receives a slap from reality that causes her to sulk deeper into the squelchy fabric of the chair.  This time she discovers what "in an instant" means. This time, she is forced to swallow that our plans are not friends with us, that they can leave us at any time, because they serve a more powerful master, whose name is unpredictability. This time, she is shoved into a battle of hope versus reality and she chokes in tears at the realization that reality will always beat the persistence out of hope, each and every time. Emma is desperate to flee the enclosure of her mind but each time she lunges forward, sh...

There is one that we will always love despite having walked over tumultuous bridges with oceans of fire to swim in at the end. A recurring theme of "what if's" and hopelessness and what we shall never again inherit, clouds the mind's judgment and creates a haze around our world, one that blinds us. Foggy!! It is, therefore, time, for our minds to come to the battlefield and conquer the matter at hand. The mind must rise over the matter! Pierce the memories with your sharp stake of "I never deserved this." Slap the hand of manipulation and declare, "I know my worth." Burn the photographs with the oil of bravery and forwardness as you whisper, "I control my destiny." Watch them burn and smile, as the flames release the toxicity that made your mind fragile, causing you to forget your power and haphazardly give it to another. Relinquish the desires, quell the scent that has caused you to follow blindly and lose yourself in a forest of insecur...

 I long to go back, tear amidst the heavy shadows, to hold the hand of the child stuck in a pit of oblivion. I long to grab her, and hold her, embrace her with soothing whispers of "you'll be fine." She is still standing there, all the while I grew, but there was never enough time to take her with me, to nurture her so that she grew along with my independence. Instead, I had leave her there, in the cold and the dark, to battle storms that I could never shield her from. A lonely child, with weeping eyes and fear- stained hands, she is battered. While a body grew around her, and took the shape of a human molded by scars, she remained tiny and frail, unloved, unable to trust, with no desire to be brave. I hear her weep before I tear the last shadow and then I see her. I am so happy but she's mad at me and as she turns away angrily to avoid my gaze and touch, I see every scar bleeding from her back. I dash to her side and go down on my knees and hug the child that I once ...