Consistency: 08/04/2022

Synchronised as they are, Dancing in the moonlight Such a pretty sight Seen even from afar. They dance and hug and kiss They love each other Like no other Ever before this tryst. Perfectly synchronised breathing, Thoughts, wants, Anything at all, One needs the other's giving. Trust like natural occurence, It was meant to be, She and he, Soon jump the white fence. A shiny ring in a box, Opened neatly, Offered dearly, To his precious one. She accepts, gladly, Takes his hand To help him stand, So they can walk to their wedding. It's a joyous occasion, It was meant to be, He waits, standing, Her father walks her down. They both say yes, The crowd cheers, Toasts, cries, tears, Are shared among them. So when she looks up To the happy pair, She thinks it's fair, After all, they're synchronised. So she takes off home, To her dog and husband, The one in a thousand, She thinks it's okay now.

The metronome, it went tock-tock-tock-tock from its place on top the piano. The keys, they went plink and plonk and other beautiful sounds, though everything was slightly out of tune.

“Again! You’re not following the metronome at all. Listen, see, play the first note on tick, and the fourth one on tock. Can you do that? Try again, from the beginning.”

The boy bit his lip, and tried to play the A scale again. Do re mi fa so la ti do re mi fa so la ti—

“Good. I want you to play them inversed next week. Keep practicing with the metronome.”

And with that, the teacher packed up her bags and left.

Still the boy sat at the piano. The metronome, he had to use it for pieces too. Four-four time? It should sound four times a measure. Three-four time? Thrice a measure. Tock tock tock. He couldn’t figure out which note went on tock, even though he knew, he couldn’t listen both to the metronome and the notes at the same time. Tears welled up in his eyes, and eventually he slammed his hands on the keys, creating a discordant chord, and left the piano as it was, sheet music drifting to the floor.

“Have you practiced this week? Come, let us hear your scales. We’ll start from A.”

Another week, another lesson.

(( I'm having some problems w/ posting; if this shows up more than once i am SO sorry in advance ))

[Begin: audio recording.] “Someone is born, and someone dies, every second of the day. You could argue, even, that it almost occurs as one unifying event, no? Well, if not for birth rates exceeding death rates in many places, but I digress! “The cycle of life is nothing if not consistent, you see! People are born, they age and they die, at a pre-established rate, and always in the same order of events. It's a form of synchrony, you could argue, the general lifespan that humankind shares. ”But not all patterns are as orderly as this sounds, nor is the end of any one lifetime a desirable end to the sequence! Surely, my fellow researchers, we've all considered the notion of what if for centuries and more? What if we, as a global society, could prevent the aging process from doing harm? What if we could halt it, reverse it, effectively stop it from ever hoping to bring people the pain that accompanies great loss? “What if we could establish a new pattern, a new design, a continuing rate not of life and death, but of life and life alone? “Now what if I told you that I can? “No, no, settle down, everyone! Settle down!! I've not yet finished. “By studying extensively the process of what causes someone to age, and the very essence of human development and thanatology, I have determined that if we only had the sufficient medical equipment, if only we had that advance in technology that we would so require, we could take the steps to becoming immortal. Which is common knowledge or a common idea, I'm sure, but what sets my work apart from that of the pillars of science that all stand below it is that I have confirmed an almost *foolproof* way to ensure the eternal life of mankind! “Here, gentlemen, is my hypothesis: ...” [End: audio recording.]

WC: 662 Notes: I wanted to write a cute couple. Maybe I'll write about these two more in the future.

Warm rays of light shine down on Lillian as she glides around the stage on her feet effervescently. Her gown floats behind her, white and airy like it has in previous performances. However, this show is different, extremely different. Lillian will no longer dance professionally, or at least not for this company, after this performance.

Lillian has been with the Jour du Melon Dance Company for many years, rising through the ranks. She had landed the starring role for the first and final time in the prior year, since she was preparing to graduate.

She's alone for this piece, with all focus on her as she does her brisé on stage right. Despite the fact that she feels like a celebrity on stage, she misses the familiarity of being in the ensemble. She craves the adrenaline of reaching the song's pinnacle and feeling the energy surrounding her swell. There is nobody she can rely on now, since she is on her own.

She slowly raises her gaze to the lone spotlight that beams down on her in the hopes of seeing a familiar face, but also because it's a part of the routine. Looking beyond, she notices the light booth and can almost see Samantha's face smiling down at her. And just maybe, for a brief moment, everything is alright for Lillian—maybe she isn't alone. As long as Samantha, dear, lovely Samantha, was still in the light booth, what could be so bad?

She smiles as she closes her eyes and returns her eyes to the horizon. Her final performance, not just for the week, month, or year, but for all time. She'll grow up and become a successful former student of the company. But Samantha? Samantha'll never leave– she'll stay with her forever, Lillian's sure.

Samantha, Lillian's adored girlfriend, sits above in the light booth while she is performing her dance. Her dark eyes follow the pink-haired ballerina attentively. Attempts to focus are temporarily halted as the spotlight is kept in place for a short instant. Samantha sighs blissfully as she watches her lover spin down below onstage. What a pretty woman she is! See for yourself how she shines in the pitch black!

Samantha has always been too uncoordinated to be a dainty dancer, at least according to her former ballet teacher, and she is fully aware of this. Her thoughts wander to the moment she told Lillian she was quitting dance class; the anguish in the other girl's eyes, the way her heart hammered, almost exploding out of her chest.

But perhaps watching Lillian smile as she dances is just as satisfying as living her dream for herself. The show she gets to see on stage is as pleasant a prize as any. While Samantha supports her girlfriend in every way she can in her ballet career, she sometimes thinks to herself, "I wish that was me," as she watches Lillian dance elegantly around the stage. It prompts her to feel awful remorse, yet she can't stop thinking about it. She'll just have to deal with the reality of her future while loving a girl who is living out the one she once desired and occasionally still does.

The music becomes more intense, breaking the technician out of her trance. She maintains control of the spotlight, knowing exactly where Lillian will go, what she'll do, and how quickly she'll do it. Little things she's learned from watching endless exhibitions of this dance.

As a result, Lillian dances her heart out on stage, with the spotlight following her in perfect timing. Her brilliant smile droops as she deflects sparkling tears to avoid confusing the spectators or ruining her makeup.

Finally, as she ends her dance, she chokes on the air around her as claps erupt from the crowd. She can feel love in the loud chaos of the claps. As she exited, all she could hope was that she gave those audience members as much enjoyment as she had herself.

Word count: 221 ⌚️

lol I thought the jester one was bad. nah this is my least favourite 0/10 on tripadvisor but at least I wrote something Sasha bolted along the dockside.

She has to have docked by now. Where is she? She has to be around here somewh-

“Sasha!”

June called out to her, her voice powerful even among the crowds. It had been months since she’d heard her say her name, and she hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed it. There were people absolutely everywhere, but she managed to pick out her distinctive blue hat and her steady eyes. She twisted through the crowd clumsily in her desperation.

“June! I’m here!”

Before she knew it, they were face to face.

“You’re… You’re really back…” Sasha said, close to tears. June beamed, grabbed her hand, pulled her out of the hoard of bodies and gave her a crushing hug.

They were together again at last. It had been far too long.

“You’re wearing the watch I made you…” teary-eyed June noticed, pulling back slightly and holding the little locket to her own. There was a whirr, then a click. “There we go. An exact match. God, I missed this.”

Sasha bounced on the balls of her feet. “I missed you too! Let’s go home! We need to catch up and everything, come on! So much has changed!”

June laughed and held hands with her partner. Together, they ran off down the dusty streets of their home.

Neu turned his head on the pillow and stared at Phi. The window refracted spots of dusk, a hazy red, on the dark interior. Neu was not sure what to think of her, of their relationship. He was sure he liked her in the present time, but what about in the future? Will his feelings stay or will he end up abandoning Phi like so many other people? Just a splinter in his heart.

He sat up and poked the pain away. He had to stay. But maybe they needn't stay like this forever.

Phi roused awake, and belately Neu realized that his movements weren't quiet. Sleeping with someone was new to him.

"Is it morning already?" said Phi blearily. I smoothed her hair in response, she leaned in closer, I rolled over, and we ended up in a mixture between a hug and a cuddle.

Her head rested on my chest. Ba-dumm. Ba-dumm. I felt my heartbeat drumming against her head. My hand was on her back behind her heart; her heartbeat was similar, slower.

I focused on my heartbeat, tried to match it with hers. Ba - dumm. Ba - dumm. Ba - dumm.

Our heartbeats synced, pulsed together, fell into each other. It felt powerful; her heart beat and that made mine beat, and my heartbeat made hers beat. We were together, we were one.

Like this we stayed until the sun painted the room in orange.

Everything was going to be alright.

words: 588

notes: this is like, a Monster Hunter fanfic. It's kind of stinky.

The pair of us stare down the injured Rathalos. He stares back at us defiantly, flames licking his jaws despite the way he limps on one of his legs.

My grip tightens around my insect glaive as I drop into a fighting stance. “Come on, Rika!” I shout. “He’s on his last leg -- literally!”

“Lukas!” she hisses back. “You can’t rush in like--”

I sprint forwards, leaving my fellow hunter’s words behind me. Once in range, I tip the point of my glaive into the ground. I catapult myself high into the air, flying high above my target. I lock my eyes onto his tail, orient myself to perform a plunging attack, and--

My body is suddenly hit with a searing pain, turning my vision dark. I feel myself tumble into the rocky ground below, my right shoulder taking the brunt of the landing. The Rathalos roars triumphantly, mocking me. I blink my eyes open just in time to see Rathalos spewing another fireball towards me.

I brace for impact, but Rika leaps in front of me. I didn’t even see her unsheathe her long sword, just her blade hanging in the air and the remnants of the fireball floating as harmless ash around her. She pulls me to my feet and I hastily chug a mega potion, the odd green goop revitalizing my body already.

“We attack together,” she says firmly. “Big boy can’t handle two of us at the same time. Got that?” she slaps my shoulder.

“Yes,” I sigh, rubbing my shoulder.

I pick up my weapon and eye the Rathalos once again. He blinks his beady little eyes before letting out a mighty roar that reverberated throughout the Ancient Forest. The two of us are forced to cover our ears. The flying wyvern takes advantage of our stunned state, rushing at us in a reckless charge.

We had barely enough time to dodge out the way. The Rathalos, however, still maintained his momentum. He screeches as his bad leg gives away and he slowly crashes into the ground; his large wings flounder ungracefully as he tried to brace his fall. I share a glance with Rika. I could tell she was grinning even with her helmet on.

“Now!” she shouts.

The two of us quickly close in on the fallen monster. I start my flurry of spinning strikes on the Rathalos’ head, knocking loose some of his scales. Rika performs a series of graceful arcs and short jabs on the Rathalos’ tail, her blade glowing red. The Rathalos weakly kicks his feet, the deadly talons hardly reaching my legs.

“Give it all you’ve got!” Rika bellows.

I nod, disengaging from the monster. I watch as she stabs her blade into the Rathalos’ side, using it as a step to jump into the air. I don’t wait to watch the rest of her devastating spirit helm breaker, instead setting up my own attack.

As Rika pulls her sword into a downward slash, I spring forwards again. I sling my glaive into my signature attack, the tornado slash. We strike simultaneously, the sound of our battle cries rivaling that of Rathalos’ previous roars.

Rathalos raises his head as a final shriek leaves his throat. He falls back to the ground, leaving the forest eerily quiet. The King of the Sky’s tyranny has ended.

I laugh as I replace my glaive on my back. “We make the best team, don’t we, Rika?”

She huffs, sheathing her long sword. “Only when you listen to me…”

Tis the Shroom shroom here to announce your doom doom <33 Ly

The calming sound of nature accompanied Brook as she made her way through the park, hands in the pockets of her jeans and head tilted up towards the sky. Usually if she was out for a walk, she’d throw in some earbuds and listen to music, but not today. Today, she was on a mission.

To find inspiration.

And what better place to find such a thing than in the park on a beautiful Sunday afternoon? She was bound to find something interesting to get her brain juices going here.

Or that’s what she kept telling herself in an attempt to keep up the positive attitude.

She wandered down the path, looking around herself, finding all sorts of people doing all sorts of things. Parents playing with their children, children playing amongst each other, couples on dates. If there was one thing here, there was variety. It was a refreshing change from the lonely walls of her studio. At least for a hermit like herself.

She started humming a mindless song to herself, nothing already existing but rather going with whatever came to her first. It didn’t make too much sense but it flowed enough for her to be entertained by it.

And that’s when another voice joined hers’, seemingly singing the same song. She turned to it, stopping dead in her tracks upon finding the source to be a young man sitting under a tree not too far from her. He seemed to be drawing, or maybe writing, entirely oblivious to their unintentional synchronisation.

His voice was haunting, so faint, yet so beautiful. She found herself entirely captivated by it, as if the inspiration she had so been lacking for so long hit her like a truck. Without hesitation she stepped closer to the stranger, joining him in their song once again.

The boy’s voice faltered, his eyes quickly looking up to find Brook standing in front of him.

“Please don’t stop” she breathed out, offering him a reassuring smile as she took a seat on the grass before him.

The boy hesitated for a moment but eventually continued, averting his gaze from her. But Brook paid it no mind, her mind far too fascinated by how well their voices sounded together now that they were close, flowing alongside each other in perfect synchronised harmony.

Brook’s eyes fluttered shut, her hand tapping along to the melody they sang consisting only of vague gibberish feigning real words. Rebirthed by the blessed touch of inspiration, she diverted into differences from the original melody, and the boy followed her effortlessly. Like the song already existed in both their minds in the exact same way.

As if this is how it was always meant to be. Their voices together. WC: 456 (yeah, ik)

The Harlin siblings had no idea what they were doing with their father's book of spells.

"Come on, Inez!" The younger one pleaded, shaking his sister's robe countless times. "We can undo this right after the game."

Cheers and chants erupted from the living room, calling them back from the office. Their house was wide enough to fit the entire class in each room, deeming it the perfect place for a sleepover.

"I suppose so." Inez said, taking the book from the desk. "But if this goes wrong, Hugo, Father will be furious."

"So, we just have to do it right!" She thought him a rabbit for jumping around so excitedly. "Do it!"

Pages breathed air into their faces as she flipped them over, her finger landing on one. "There, okay."

Inez said each word with caution, forcing herself into a state of calm and precision. Soon, Hugo began saying them too, now matching her serious demeanor.

Once the spell had been finished, they ran back to the living room.

"I know you two were paired but really? This is just a game."

Inez saw Hugo frown before taking his seat at the space across from her.

"Alright, rules of Twin Telepathy!" The class president said, "Five rounds were we count down from 3 to 1, and the chosen two will say what hopefully is the same word. Get it right for all five turns, and you win!"

Each turn went magnificently well, which was magnificently threatening for Inez and Hugo, who were the last pair.

"Three, two," The class yelled, "One!"

"Number!" They both shouted.

"Three! Two! One!"

"Bacon!"

"Three! Two! One!"

"Table!"

The room filled itself with victorious clapping, but there were still two rounds left.

"Three! Two! One!"

"Harlin!" They said.

"Please," One of the guys said, "Pick something more complicated."

"Fine." Hugo scoffed, making Inez scoff just the same, but the classmates were too busy counting to tell.

"What if I ask them a question? So we see if they give the same answer." A girl spoke up.

The class president brought a hand to her chin, giving a thumbs up afterward, "Sure! Make it count."

"Three!"

The class started again.

"Two!"

Inez began to worry for the answer.

"One!"

Oh no.

"Who is the smartest between you two?"

"Hugo." They answered, "No, Inez."

Both of them let out an eerily similar noise of frustration that caught everyone's attention. To cover it, Inez looked at the girl straight in the eyes.

"Me." She said, Hugo following her.

The girl looked back with narrowed eyes, "Are you cheating-"

The lights went off.

"Time for bed, children," A deep voice said, "Good night."

"Good night, Father." Inez and Hugo said, lowering their voice into whispers. "Thank you for the nice save."

{WC: 463]

There were few groups, if any, that had reached the level of synchronization that the marching band had. Every member’s movement was fluid and mirrored by their peers as they created formations with a practiced ease. A flash of brass slid across the audience’s vision as a line of horns tilted up towards the top of the stadium in perfect unison. It was rare that the synchronicity was broken amidst bands of the highest caliber like the ones that flocked to this competition. The final band was on the field currently, blaring out its closing number to the people crowded amidst the stadium seats. The music faded as the wall of horns snapped downwards, and the drum major directed their band off the field. Moments later, a static covered voice came over the intercom system announcing that winners would be declared soon and to send their representatives to the field to claim their trophies. “And finally, coming in first at the top of the division… The School of Wordcraft!”

What I believe, I try to put to action

Doing my best to attain synchronization.

When I don’t reconcile the two,

My words are questioned by all of you.

The voice of my conscience I refuse to detract,

Lest my soul’s light starts to contract.

My heart and mind whisper the same thoughts,

Their intentions synchronized to keep me aloft.

Sometimes my actions betray my beliefs

Those nights I spend sleepless, without any relief.

My actions haunt me, disbelief clear in my mind,

If only it was easy for time to rewind.

Sometimes my beliefs and actions, although synchronized, still seem at odds

Those nights I spend questioning whether they were truly connected by any bonds.

My mind reasons, my heart rebels, my soul torn by the anguish,

Questions become a prison of my own making, wherein I forevermore languish.

What I believe and how I act,

Synchronized are the two,

When I break that pact,

Question me, why don’t you? [WC: 161]

Word Count: 868 words

There. They did it again. They turned to Lawrence at the same time.

"Aleph, you've been watching them for ten minutes now. Cease that."

Aleph clicked his tongue, though he remembered to take care to hide it behind his glass of wine.

"Also, Your Highness, you spilled quite a bit of your wine on your gloves."

"Hush, you two." He glared at them, finally turning away from the ballroom crowd despite every fiber of his being aching to leave this ball behind. Edmund only raised an eyebrow as he sipped on his own wine. Selene looked away, munching on a macaron from her platter. Though, an amused smile was evident in the quirk on her lips.

Taking a deep breath, Aleph waved for a passing servant and placed his glass on his platter. Curses. I should get a grip, he thought as he frowned at the wine stains on his gloves. Father would be disappointed. Ignoring all urges to watch Adina flit around with the young Edenstein, Aleph transferred his energy instead to the more acceptable act of glaring at the cerulean curtains. Placing his hands on his waist, he took another breath.

A sigh from Edmund. "Aleph, you're not doing a good job trying to hide anything. You twitch almost every three seconds."

He turned. "How—!" he paused, seeing a few head turns from a few nobles heading towards the snack tables near them. "How do you expect me to calm down? How are you so calm?"

Edmund hummed, glancing towards the sight Aleph dared not look at again, lest he— "By making plans in my head as to how to interrogate him later."

Selene chuckled, tutting as she shook her head. "Both of you are too overprotective. Let the young lady enjoy her time with her friend."

"We have not confirmed his intentions," Aleph said, frowning.

Edmund nodded. "Nor have we confirmed if their friendship is genuine."

Selene blinked before sighing. Pressing her fingers to her forehead, she continued. "Please look at them more carefully."

Aleph scowled. "I already—!"

"Carefully, Your Highness. Reign in your judgment even just a little bit."

Edmund did as Selene suggested and glanced back. Aleph took a few more seconds to consider it before turning his head. Again, he observed Adina as she dragged Felix to another snack table, chatting as she did so. Her smile was wide as ever, eyes glowing as they always did whenever she talked of her dreams, her jokes... whenever she laughed.

Her countenance was genuine, as Selene could also tell. The realization was not much of a surprise to Aleph—Adina was, after all, the most genuinely kind and honest person he was honored to have as a dear friend—but it did nothing to alleviate the unease within him.

Adina and Lord Felix seemed to talk as if they were old friends. Did they finish each other's sentences too? It wouldn't surprise Aleph if they could. Perhaps, they sometimes reacted the same way to the same joke. He'd seen them turn to each other once after hearing the boisterous laughter of a passing clique of noble men.

"Of course, I do not claim to know her as well as you do," Selene said, smiling softly. "However, I believe the fact she has friends aside from you two, who would accompany her when you two are not around, is a wonderful thing." Turning back to them, she took another macaron and tilted her head. "You're not losing her."

As she munched on her snack, Aleph let her words sink in, glancing once more at Adina. He supposed... he should be glad, as she said. He should have expected this ever since they left the junior section of Saint Lune Academy and advanced to the higher levels. It was an Academy rule that the junior and senior sections would be separated, even in major balls like this. Edmund and Aleph would now rarely be able to see her; she would have definitely been alone had she not befriended Felix or any one else.

At the end of the day, Aleph knew, he was just selfish. He enjoyed Adina's presence, every moment shared with her, and didn't want to share her with anyone aside from his small, trusted circle of confidants and family. Yet, it began to dawn on him: Adina, the star that she was, couldn't be hidden amongst a blanket of fading and dull mere twinkling lights. Within the wave of people bending according to society's rules, Adina shone and beckoned you to her own whimsical gravity.

She was always going to be herself—a presence to behold and a lovable friend.

(No matter how he wished she could be more than that.)

A sigh from Edmund broke him out of his musing. Again. His friend offered a newly-filled glass of wine, a knowing look on his ever-calm face. "Here. You could use a break."

"I don't like being drunk," Aleph mumbled, even as he accepted the glass.

"Then take just a sip."

Gesturing to one of the open balconies, Selene said, "Perhaps some fresh air would be better than this ballroom atmosphere?"

He didn't need to be told twice this time. "Yes, it would."

Samantha kept glancing back and forth between her clock and her computer. She was waiting for her closest friend, Alexis, who said they would be back with the news on 5:05 on the dot, of if they got accepted into MIT as well. They agreed to both talk about it only a few hours after they both got their letters, all day she was celebrating and wondering if Alexis got in as well. When they first met they talked about what collage they wanted to go to quite a bit, while Alexis usually thought about the local community college, even though she was the smartest person in their grade, Samantha wanted to go to the more prestigious school. Eventually they both agreed that they would both try to go to the same school, if Alexis didn't get in then Samantha would just go to the other school that Alexis picked. The alarm went off and instantly she could see that Alexis was online. She quickly sent that she had received an acceptance letter, then she looked away in a panic. Her mind wandered as she panicked, but her mind calmed as she remembered that either way she was going to be with her best friend. Once she was calmer she looked back, right there were their two messages saying the exact same thing, even the timing was the same, she couldn't stop from laughing. Both of their brains were just kind of synchronized she guessed. {246}

My room was a big square made up of three blue walls and one mirror wall. It’d been my room since forever, and so while most people find it odd to go about life with a reflection of it near, it was normal for me.

Me and my reflection had always been in sync. We tapped our feet at the same time, brushed our teeth in the exact same way, and when I went to Grandma’s, whose house was covered head-to-toe in mirrors and every time you turned you never lost sight of yourself, we walked in the same brisk manner.

You’re probably thinking, “Duh.” (And also, “Are you breaking the fourth wall?” and the answer to that is yes but you already knew that.) I was as well, ‘cause obviously, that’s how reflections were. Reflecting you. My use of the “we” pronoun was dumb, since I should’ve been using singular.

But I had always had this strange feeling that maybe reflections weren’t merely reflections. Which, again, was dumb.

Regardless, I tried an experiment one day. I wrote a message backwards on a piece of paper: “ARE YOU SENTIENT?”

I showed it to the mirror.

I really, truly, sincerely wasn’t expecting I’d get a message back. But then the me in the mirror did something I did not.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and smiled my dimpled smile.

He picked up a pen off his version of my desk and wrote….

“YEAH. I GUESS I DON’T HAVE TO PRETEND ANYMORE, HUH?”

My heart hammered in my chest. What the hell was happening? My reflection was sentient, that’s what was happening. I waited a moment for that to sink in.

Mirror-me stood from his chair and walked to the mirror. He pressed his hand against it. And then he spoke.

“Secret’s out….” His voice was the same as mine. I couldn’t do anything but stare in shock.

He whipped around and yelled, “Does this mean I get to leave now? I know you can hear me, so please, answer. Can I finally…?”

Someone who couldn’t be seen responded, in a nasally voice, “Yes, yes, I suppose so. That’s what the terms are—you’re found out and then you can rebirth. Step out the door, now, and you’ll be created shortly.”

Step out of the door and you’ll be created shortly? Rebirth? What?

“Hey,” I found myself able to speak, “what’s going on? What does he mean? Wha—?“

He, my reflection, opened the door, and what awaited him was a bright white light. My reflection was leaving me?

He stepped toward the light…but before he embraced it, he looked back at me with tears streaming down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he said.

The light sucked him in then, and the reflection of my room’s door closed. And in the mirror was my room and everything in it but me. I guess I’m a vampire now, hah. But though I joked, it felt very disturbing to not have a reflection.

Even more so, I felt disturbed about what had happened to my reflection. Where had he gone? How would he be “created shortly”?

The nasally voice didn’t give me time to ruminate. It sighed. “Guess I’ll have to find a replacement. Won’t be too hard. Lots of souls waiting for a spot ‘ere. Aha!” it cried out. “Found the perfect one.”

A new mirror-me entered through the mirror version of my room door.

“You’re to be completely in sync with Marc”—my name—“got it? Every move he makes, you make. This is sort of your job now, till you’re reborn. At least, that’s what it is if you do it RIGHT. Do it wrong and you’ll be on your way down to the underworld.”

Mirror-me gulped. Instead of replying or asking questions, he sat down in the chair I was sitting in and copied my position. Certainly he wanted to do the job right. Poor guy…

“Oh yeah, the most important step. Erase the memories. Wouldn’t want little Marc here to set you free so soon just ‘cause he knows how.”

A shock ran through me, making me convulse and sending sharp pains through my nerves.

Next thing I knew, I was smiling at my reflection. What was I doing again? I wondered. Oh, yes, homework. I flipped back a page, on which weirdly I wrote backwards, and continued solving the equations.

The me in the mirror did them too, perfectly in sync as always.

WC: 767

One of the hardest parts of being a cheerleader in a group is making sure my moves match up with those of everyone else. I've always had a bit of an inferiority complex, so sometimes I feel like I can't stack up and everyone watching will feel I'm makomg a bad [erformance that drags down their experience.

I didn't even want to be a cheerleader at first, but there's this baseball player in the team that I really look up to, and I want to do my best to help him get his win at Nationals this coming season. He's not even the slightest bit aware, to my knowledge, but everyone else on the team knows full well I always make sure the water jug is full and his workout gear is in optimal state whenever he's practicing on campus. Even if I don't even get recognized in the end, I want him to shine like the star he deserves to be seen as.

Today I got berated by the captain again, so I started practicing my routine alone in my yard for what felt like hours. Unfortunately, during one of the riskier maneuvers, I tripped on a rock. A sharp pain rushed all over my foot as my ankle landed flat on said rock. The moment I noticed my foot bent at an unnatural angle, I started crying loudly. The pain was secondary; it was the fact that I wouldn't be able to cheer at Nationals that year that made me break down.

I considered hiding my pain, but knowing I'd be doing flips and jumps, I quickly came to terms with the fact there was no way I'd be able to perform the routine properly like this. Heck, the doctor recommended I wear a brace and walk around on crutches for the next two weeks. Crutches, I tell you! I couldn't bear to even show my face in front of the cheer squad or the team at this point...

...Or at least, that's what I thought, at first. A couple days in, the habit of checking up on the baseball player finally got the best of me, and I stopped by the court one last time, just to see how he was doing. Much to my surprise, he actually noticed me looking his way this time. I suppose the sound of crutches on concrete worked in my favor this time around. I could feel my heart pounding as he stopped practicing just to walk my way for the first time.

He greeted me as if I was an old friend and asked me if I wanted to join him for a glass of water on the bleachers. I politely refused, but he insisted, saying the weather in the afternoon gets particularly sweltering. He helped settle me onto the bleachers and held my crutches for me. He noticed the way my hand trembled, causing the water inside the plastic cup to slosh around. He asked me if I was coming to the big game that week.

I told him I couldn't cheer for him anymore, so I likely wouldn't.

The way he grimaced upon hearing this made my heart sink. He told me he was really looking forward to seeing me there, even if I couldn't do flips on the side of the field. He mentioned he'd notice I'd never match up to the pompous primadonnas that made up most of the cheer squad, and that he'd love to see me dance to the beat of my own drum once I'd recovered.

I didn't even think of what I was supposed to do at this moment. The next moment I knew, I was a crying mess in his arms. He told me he liked me a lot too, and I felt all the blood vessels in my head blooming a bright red. Did I really...?

He explained to me that he had to win at Nationals because he couldn't afford to travel to his dream university without a sports scholarship, and that he wanted me to be there when he inevitably won the big game. He handed me an envelope, and knowing full well what it was, I told him he should use it to invite family and loved ones only.

He placed the envelope in my hands and told me I fell under the "loved ones" category, and I felt my heart stop at this moment. I wasn't sure what to do! He must have noticed my apprehension, so he smiled and told me to think about it, saying:

"Nationals only comes once a year."

mornings with the street lights

Word Count: 924

Summary:

The early morning hours were brief, but precious.

Takuto and Zenkichi took that moment to sway underneath the lights before the world started its day.

There were some days where it all felt so hazy. Like if either of them closed their eyes and let their thoughts go, they would drift off into the soft yellow sky with the breeze of dawn.

Their palms felt warm against the other, almost too warm to be comfortable. But it was enough, especially when everything else was mute.

Takuto and Zenkichi decided to start the weekend by slipping out of bed early. They retreated to the nearby pathway behind their house, being careful to not wake up Akane. Relishing in the remaining minutes the street lights were still on, Takuto grasped Zenkichi’s hands.

Slowly, the rest of the world slipped away from their view.

Neither of them wanted to let go, keeping their hands intertwined as they swayed. They couldn’t if they wanted though, as Takuto took small steps to guide Zenkichi. All while being cautious to not trip on each other’s feet.

Zenkichi’s hums echoed in the empty pathway, his soft voice being the only companion to their steps on the stone pavement. There was the faint sound of the cars at the nearest street, but they merely added buzzes to their quiet tune.

Takuto rested his hand against Zenkichi’s shoulder. He stepped back, and tugged Zenkichi for him to make a step forth. A gentle harmony Zenkichi picked up on, and began to calmly hum.

At times, every minute or so, one of them leaned into the other’s chest. Then pulled away when the movement or the soft music was halted. The dawn when they were awake before the world was short; Every second of it could only allow them so much.

It wasn’t that early, it was right about the time either of them would normally wake up for their day to day work. But, it was early enough for no one else to watch them lean in, sway, and pass the chance for a hug or a kiss. They each took turns to rotate, as they stepped to the right and the left. Always underneath one of the three street lights behind their home.

Zenkichi kept swaying and moving to the beat of his own hums. He followed Takuto’s footsteps, as the knowledge of who was leading who switched once again. He knew he was getting the hang of it, despite his last dance being many months ago.

Yet whenever he took a chance to glance at Takuto, he found his humming littered with brief pauses. There was always something with the other man that made him breathless. That got rid of his confidence and left him in a sputtering mess at times.

It was different, a change of pace he welcomed with open arms. And it didn’t take long for him and Takuto to form a special connection, a bond he would treasure deeply.

Though it didn’t mean either of them could explain how they had fallen in love, or really, explain their love altogether. The stories were always different, varying details only added to the mystery.

Takuto had said they met in a ramen shop, and crossed paths in Sendai. Meanwhile, Zenkichi mentioned their first encounter was at the police station because of a misunderstanding. And crossed paths a few months later in Osaka, sharing a pack and a light.

It was a feeling that lasted for a long time, almost a year. But when their close ties caught wind of their meetups, it didn’t take more than a week for a group of teens to be at their door. They had no choice but to recount what really happened, all the while Akane watched them from the dining table with an amused smile on her features.

The teens were happy, and reasonably so. Even Akira, their agreed leader, pulled them aside before they all left to express his joy. Especially being the only one who really understood the adults’ pasts.

Takuto and Zenkichi both knew their love wasn't fleeting and temporary, and they liked it that way. They promised each other that they would always love each other, no matter what.

The distance between them grew smaller, while Takuto guided Zenkichi’s right hand to his left shoulder. Then the other man guided him backwards and gave a soft laugh.

It was enough for Zenkichi to catch a glimpse of his lover’s warm face. He snuck in a quick smile before they returned to their dance.

The street lights above them flickered and shut off, though it allowed for the rays of the sunrise to replace it. The time limit they set for themselves was forgotten, and silently, they agreed that being a little late wouldn’t hurt all too much. They could make up a convincing excuse, plus it was the first time they had gone on longer than they should.

Over and over again, they kept glimpsing at each other with affectionate gazes. It was a cycle that seemed as if it would never end, and for them, it was immaculate. Surreal, almost.

Before the sunlight had eased into the blue sky, they leaned in for a soft kiss. Pulling away, Zenkichi’s hums ceased and Takuto’s guidance was put to a halt. What remained were their heartbeats, beating in a synchronized rhythm, almost lulling them to continue their dance. But the dance would end there, and in moments, they would be off their separate ways to work.

Though something told them they would find each other back there at the end of the day, holding each other after long hours of missing each other’s touch.

Word Count: 154 I'm trying. To be happy. In a world that changes. Following the light. Inside me. Laughing at the stars. That stare at me, amused. Running through the lies. Of family. Of love and flowers. That whispers my name. Searching. For the reason. I am. I am not. The answer. Lost in time. Shouting for freedom. From pain and stone. From the eyes of loneliness. Falling for the truth. Sneering me with pleasure. The blinding sun. Outside me. Hiding from the shadows. In my broken self. Crying. I give up.

Maybe it’s the only way. To close my eyes. Not look back. At memories that always are. There to feel. Simultaneously pink. Blue. Purple. Always comparing. To a better me. That I am. I am not. Never changing. To green. Red. Only white. Divided by a transparent window. The times that’ll never come back. Keep looking forward. Open your eyes. To all the new possibilities.

Word Count: 377

I feel the water rushing through my face and skin. One movement at a time, I feel like I'm flying. Even if it gets heavier with each pull of my arms and kicks of my legs I don't stop. I turn my head sideways and breathe deeply in the one second above the water. I briefly hear the cheers and the sounds of splashing water, and my heart is filled with exhilaration and anxiety. I have to finish this. I have to go faster. I push through the pain. It has to be enough. It's not. I see my competitors gaining on me. No. I let go of my air slowly through my nose. I focus on the bubbles, the lines on the bottom of the pool. I look at the other end and prepare myself for the turn. I pull my head above the water the last time and dive. The intricate turn is second nature, I'm already kicking off the wall when they get to me. I'm flying underwater again. I'm like a rocket ship going to space. I reach the surface in perfect form but my chest burns and the pressure on my head increases. I shake it off and breathe as I pull my arm above the water and pull and kick and pull and kick, over and over again. I can see the finish line clearly but I'm losing control of my body. What's happening to me? I try to continue but I'm so tired, my kicks lose their strength and my arms get slower. I hear my family screaming my name, to "go, go, go!" I see the concern in their eyes and I feel my eyes water. I always found it strange the fact that I could distinguish the tears falling from my eyes and the water that filled my goggles. I closed my eyes in that instant and just felt the water surrounding me in a warm embrace. It always felt welcoming to me. Even if sometimes It would be cold and silent, I felt It calling to me. I don't remember the first time I swam, but I definitely remember my last. I feel my head touching the wall on the other side, and nothing more ever again.

With Time and Space synchronized the universe was birthed to life.

They played their game in perfect harmony. So that one by one the stars lit up the sky and galaxies were born with soloar systems of planets and moons and mysteries. When Time made a step, Space moved with him, the dance began.

One two three, another galaxy.

Four five six, another star may be fixed.

seven eight nine, let the skies illuminate.

ten eleven twelve, make the planets come to life.

And time took a step back and Space followed him.

eleven ten nine, let this star die

eight seven six, let these two galaxies mix

five four three, lets leave this planent be

two one zero, this black hole swallows even me.

And ever on and on goes the dance of Time and Space, scynronized they play their game. Let all things come and all things pass. Give birth and death, and memories. That Time gambles with Moments for the gifts of Space. wc:166

Tick Tock, the clock went, but little did I know…

In one pan I fried up some crispy bacon while in the other I scrambled some fluffy eggs, yes it was past 12 am but who cares when you gotta eat you gotta eat. I look at the clock. Huh, I think I was awake at this time yesterday. Wait, what was I doing oh yeah…

OH FRICK

I was trying to finish consistency before 1am. Oh no, oh no, this can’t be happening. I run to my computer. Synchronized. why me, why me? I had no ideas and with zero brain cells left I wanted to cry, but that is actually quite a difficult thing to do surprisingly. (unless I’m angry but that’s another story) I climb onto my bed and start eating my egg and bacon while searching google for prompts related to the word synchronized but the only thing related was a prompt about two people dancing synchronized in the middle of traffic. WHAT THE HECK. I exhaled slowly. Maybe I could work with that… no way that’s the weirdest thing I’ve heard all day, what kind of loony dances a slow waltz or something in the middle of traffic, i mean traffic is bad enough as it is…

12:38am

Darn it, time was running out, my heart started racing, my mind reeling with synchronized swimmers, synchronized birds, and traffic. Wait, that’s it… no, not the traffic. I can write about me being stupid trying to find something to write relating to synchronized but wait, that sounds illegal and I might be disqualified BUT time is running out and what do i have left to lose? synchronized is a hard prompt to write on a ticking clock and the spelling keeps tripping me up (so i copy paste it now) but I’ll see you on the other side.