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H.K. Asmara
A young writer with a big imagination aimed towards untraditional writing
![H.K. Asmara](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%3A443%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252FoLEUSAU84cRnkh3RC9ILMb6GIsF2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3De1013a81-f72b-4d5a-b4bc-5aa85250acee&w=256&q=75)
H.K. Asmara
A young writer with a big imagination aimed towards untraditional writing
A young writer with a big imagination aimed towards untraditional writing
A young writer with a big imagination aimed towards untraditional writing
I stood still
Rigid
My eyes peered forward
Time had never
Ever
Passed so slowly
I did not move
My body, frozen
The seconds ahead,
Fleeting
And yet,
So slowly
I wished it would come sooner
A wish I would soon
Regret
A small foreign object
slicing
Digging into skin
Between my eyes
Time
Has
Never
Passed
So
Slowly....
“We have evolved to live in an ever decaying world,” my teacher preaches. I tune him out for the lecture until the liberating bell releases us students from class.
“Zephyr!” A woman calls for me from a ways away. I walk faster, smiling at her. When I reach her we link arms out of habit. I grin wider, showing off my canines, and peer at the burning sun above. “Hitting the clubs tonight?”
“Yes, o...
Vince hops between letters on his gigantic keyboard, lungs straining with overuse.
“I am a divine creature!” He grumbles to himself, scowling at a colleague as they pass his fiberglass cubicle, “a fairy as powerful as I should not be degraded to a typing machine!”
“I need these papers photo copied before my meeting, Vince,” instructed a superior, throwing a stack of paper worthy of being a bric...
Mother is a doctor,
A shaman,
A preacher,
Her words and her choices
Make all that is wrong
Corrected.
I am her patient,
Her follower,
Her worshiper,
I am the wrong
She is correcting.
It is believed
All children are born
Without sin,
All but I.
My words are met with,
“Hush.”
My actions are met with,
“Why?”
My curiosity is met with
Unending lectures
Unending shame.
The doctor’s treatments
Or t...
As soon as I exit the police cruiser, I gag on an unwelcome laugh.
I walk towards the scene, a lowly apartment building in the suburbs barricaded with caution tape. Joining my fellow officers, I stare at a heap of fabrics. One of the gloved officers tosses the sheet aside—it required more effort from him than a normal blanket would—revealing a mildly mangled body with a tissue box as a foot and ...
Mother and Father grip my hands tighter than normal, they swing me to-and-fro as I erupt in laughter.
Mother and Father lead me down a tunnel. I’m not afraid, I’ll never be afraid with them at my side.
Mother begins to cry, Father’s fists clench into stone. They nudge me on, “Go on, be brave,” they say, holding onto each other.
Mother and Father wave goodbye....
I dash down the hallway as soon as I hear the doorbell ring. Mail. I fumble with the door handle, itching to look through what little attention I get from the outside world.
I throw aside the repetitive letters; bills, newspapers, coupons. I stop searching when I find a letter sealed with red wax.
I take the letter to the living room, eyeing the peculiar seal as I plop into the cushions of my l...
The sun and moon, an endless story of chase and repel. If I were water, you’d be oil, and with no soap to bind us together, we will never see eye to eye.
I will never settle. You are mine and mine to me. I have not ownership of you, but it is you that I have claimed for myself. Every conscious moment I dedicate myself to you; my time, my efforts, my belongings, my being itself. You are my purpos...