Four Fundamentalist Teenagers in Front of a Metropolitan Railway Car, By Finnegan Flawnt
That morning, four children appeared in front of the train, which was ready to depart and would carry them to an institution where they’d spend the day yawning while pondering how to begin their life in the most astonishing fashion. Their c…lothes were coloured flags of countries undreamed of, that withstood all weathers like perennial plants and harboured machine guns, automatic rifles and grenade launchers made by the best for the boisterous. They were: a jew, a buddhist, a christian and a muslim, and they were ready for school.
By Finnegan Flawnt
Other Notable Entries!
Of course there will be other lives. Then why do I stand facing my end as if it was calling me from my past, howling like a snowstorm of love and hate and cold and right and wrong, crying with me and laughing at my regret and confusion, reminding me of everything on this earth that I never underst…ood? The whiteness enters me, and all I know is that there was once a girl I should never have touched. – Nora Nadjarian
i lost one of the leather black gloves my grandmother used to wear when life was still black and white with a bob haircut.As i sit in the metro wagon with only one glove i stare at a bunch of sniggering art students with purple beretts, camoflage caps, long pastel scarves, tan boots, red Al…lStars, gnome hats, indigo coats, maroon cloaks, zig-zag panchos clutching canvas after canvas after canvas of INSANE BUTCHERING COLORS.I paranoicly suspect that one of these colorful minnows has stolen my glove. – Ani Boghossian
the spirit of the crane was TIGER..and it was feirce.
the spirit of the tiger was CRANE and it was magical
the spirit of the painter was spilled onto the canvas and into the night – Cyn Kuhn
She knew they were here in this dark green void of ivy and ferns. “Where did I put them?” she asks. “Where did I put my pants?” – Matthew Hamilton
I lost the scent in last night’s snowfall, but I still hear him out there, so I know which direction to head when this wretched excuse for a planet is once again (mercifully, I say) hidden in darkness. I am no longer nervous, uncertain, and I am not afraid: I feel calm, almost at peace, if I feel anyth…ing at all. If not tonight, then tomorrow night, if not tomorrow night, then the next, it does not matter, the outcome is inevitable: I will find the Wampa, I will kill him, and I will avenge my father’s death. – Boudreau Freret
She’d missed him since he’d been gone. She often found herself strolling through their park just before closing time whilst the kids played on the swings and she stroked the satin lapels on his shirt. She’d always remember his ability to stand stock still and have a piss as well as hold a conversation; her memorial to him was rock steady, “look no hands!” – Katie McCullough
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[...] fundamentalist teenagers in front of a metropolitan railway car Winner of the the Metazen “Image to Text Conversion” contest. Picture by Metazen – an online metafiction journal edited by Frank [...]
Well done Finnegan! I’m rather chuffed to be mentioned in the same breath as all these Lovely people. Frank? … You The Man. Kx.
Нашел много интересного в этом блоге, очень доволен.