DeadSoulMate

It’s endless. The sunset screams into eternity and there’s nothing to do except head towards it, chase it, but never catch it.  He knows that maybe, just maybe, if he keeps going, he’ll find her and his purpose will return to him.  He has to keep trying; there’s nothing left. He’s glad Amy fitted him with solar panels; there’s no wireless electricity in this desert, just endless sun that’s already frying his circuits and melting his synthetic skin, but he’s functioning, carrying on; she built him so well. How long has he been running for now?  He turned off his date and time tracking systems

“Amy-” His voicebox cuts out as the lower half of his jaw clatters to the floor.  Amy yelps, staring into the gaping maw where his mouth should be before hitting at the switch on his neck.  His form droops instantly and she leaps backwards, breaking all contact between them. Data log 1: 06/05/2218 I am alive.  There is no other way to articulate it.  I do not breathe.  I do not eat.  I do not sleep.  Yet I possess cognitive processes and sentience.  I cannot move and become the agent of my thoughts, but I can think.  An internet search for a definition of the word ‘alive’ yields no valid results; the primary definit

You’re sitting scrunched up on an airport bench, glancing intermittently up at the arrival and departure times; yours is still ‘DELAYED’.  You huff to yourself and hug your knees closer, closing your eyes in the hopes that the world around you dissolves. “Bill, I’ve got coffee.” It’s worth the effort of opening your eyes to see your twin’s tired smile as he extends a paper Starbucks cup towards you. “Thank you, Tomi,” you murmur, taking the beverage. He nods and sits down next to you, too close, always too close.  Your eyes skirt around the sparsely-populated waiting area, parano

What’s the furthest you’ve ever travelled to see a band?  The next city?  The other side of the country?  Or maybe you’re lucky enough to live round the corner from a concert venue? I bet you’ve not travelled from England to Los Angeles for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see your favourite band play two reunion shows.  It did take place at the end of a five-week family holiday, but it still counts. However, on 19th April 2012, my best friend and I travelled abroad without our parents for the first time to see Manic Street Preachers in Amsterdam. * Eight hours ago, I was just waking up, trying to muster the energy

The moonlight falls into the room and lands on a man with his head in his hands.  He shakes with each deep inhale and his fingers itch for a cigarette but he can't bring himself to move from the foot of the bed to the balcony.  His eyes take in the room service trays they hadn't gotten round to leaving outside the door.  They linger on discarded pieces of hotel note paper he'd earlier scrawled possible lyrics on to try and comprehend his emotions.  The pressed flowers in frames glint eerily. Behind him, the bed's other occupant shifts in his sleep, satin sheets sliding to his waist.  The man at the foot of the bed tu

Let me sing you to sleep; I promise my voice won't break as we lie under the stars. Everything is fluttering; Lips quiver, Fingers shiver, Tension simmers. Breathing is a trembling effort, but you ought to understand. You've stolen my thoughts with pressure on my heart. I've lost my inspiration because I couldn't get you off my mind. It returns in unexpected bursts that try to stutter from pen to paper. I want to laugh helplessly into your shoulder and forget why I started. I lack affection, but I'm trying. Win me with your words; want reciprocation. I'm trying.