Tag Archives: 5cardstory

try to breathe (new 5-card flickr story)


Five Card Story: try to breathe

a Five Card Flickr story created by Tempy


flickr photo by bionicteaching


flickr photo by Choconancy1


flickr photo by Serenae


flickr photo by Serenae


flickr photo by Serenae

we walked for the joy of it

asher, david, and i, chasing stars out of hiding and reveling in the movement of everything around us

the sands shifted, the continent moved, the planet spiraled around a moving star

and we existed

by the grace of god, we existed

if we had known what was coming, would we have done anything differently?

when we went back, asher wasn’t the same

barked at shadows

refused to come inside when i let him out after dark

when he ran away, they told us that this was not uncommon in such times

what such times? we asked them

you know, these times. crazy, frenetic

dogs, cats, birds, they just can’t handle it

didn’t make us feel any better at the loss of our sweet boy

david withdrew from me
started sleeping on the couch because our bed gave him nightmares
told me about a warrior woman staring at him from the periphery
she disappeared whenever he tried to see her
really see her

i tried to understand, but i wondered if asher was what kept david sane
david told me that the woman kept getting closer

he was fired when he attacked a coworker

told me that the world was bigger than us, but there were bigger things than the world

she was whispering to him, whispering from the shadows
something’s coming, something’s coming
it’ll swallow us all whole
prepare for it
try to breathe while you can, david
’cause you won’t be able to when it comes

i took him to see a psychologist
what else could i do? he was always muttering
and i couldn’t watch him destroy himself

they told me that he wasn’t going to be able to function without meds
so we got him some meds

and he turned off

stopped talking to me
stopped talking at all

stayed home when i went to work, staring at the abandoned bird feeder in the garden

stayed in the garden until full dark

was this any better than the david from before?

the sky overwhelmed me one morning and i sat with my eyes closed
how could i stay grounded when everybody around me was not themselves? could i still be myself if they were not?
what if i was no longer the same person?

a pipe began leaking in the house and i couldn’t find it
the drip-drip was constant and david didn’t seem to mind it

i tried to ignore it until the plumber could come out to the house

at night, it joined with the whistling in the eaves to create language
i squeezed my eyes shut, but there it was

try to breathe
try to breathe
’cause you won’t be able to
it’ll swallow us all whole

mistook an old woman on a city bus for a warrior
wondered if david’s illness had taken over me
taken my mind from me

i couldn’t be crazy too
somebody had to keep the family together even if two of the members were either physically or mentally absent

adrienne from work told me to take some time off
the stress was getting to me, she said

the next month was a blur
convoluted whisperings made louder when david stopped taking his medication
we stopped watching the news
cut ourselves off

began taking long walks again, preparing

we loved like we’d never loved before
trying to breathe
left the kitchen and its peeling wallpaper

the house with the overgrown vegetable garden behind us like dusty beetle wing casing

david told me he was hungry for everything
i felt it too
gnawing my stomach, nibbling my gallbladder, devouring my pancreas and liver

until i was left as empty as a black hole
open to absorb everything

we had climbed to the highest point in miles
the world stretching down below us

david told me that i needed to look to the sky

it was soulless
the stars we chased so long ago were gone, like the life out of a man’s eyes when he sheds his mortal coil

we watched as the darkness began to pull us in
the earth trembled

we trembled
drew in gallons of air

lights shot up from far away
fire sprouted in the sky
fireworks, explosions, missiles

a nuke

all were swallowed, snuffed and eaten milliseconds after they burst
david sang a snippet of the star-spangled banner and giggled, gasping around words
lights below were snuffing out, one by one
no sounds around us but what we made
and those were being swallowed too

his hand tightened around mine
and he mouthed

try to breathe
try to breathe


another 5cardflickr story


Five Card Story: to live backwards is not evil

a Five Card Flickr story created by Tempy


flickr photo by Serenae


flickr photo by bionicteaching


flickr photo by IKnowHowToWhistle


flickr photo by jentropy


flickr photo by hummingcrow

when the leaves became spotted red, i had to go
signs, signs, were they all my that my life was comprised of?

maggie tried to force me to drink the waters of lethe, but i stopped her and she spoke no more

fevered, seeing constellations in the growth of desert flowers, i climbed to the top of the mountain

twos and threes, searching for answers from the peak
maybe we’d be closer to Him
maybe we’d be beyond heavy air

my head grew fuzzier
dehydration, the madness of disease
when i thought myself well, i had already forgotten what i left beneath the mountain

julius, lizzy, leon, and i all sat with some people who didn’t introduce themselves
they said that names were signs of dirty civilization, signs of a ephemeral and pretentious existence

thousands of bats, bugs, birds fled the forest as we watched absently
it was beneath us, lords of mountaintops so high that i cannot remember ever being warm, not even when i lay with the others to bask in the sunlight

when the nameless elders died suddenly, having contracted my former symptoms, we were jolted out of our comfort and discomfort into something new

we had no shovels and the ground was too tough for hands, so we put them in the Sanctuary and pulled the building down atop them

leon died as we wandered down the mountain like lost sheep, another victim of the disease
lizzy fell and broke her ankle

i carried her the rest of the way, though i was still weak from my so-recent illness

we reached sea level and moved along a river to a town
the town was deserted, so we followed the road to a city

it was like the skin of a snake after molting,
hollow and transparent,
lizzy made a sound like a lamed bird and i felt something i had not felt since before i fell sick

we wandered through homes where the televisions fuzzed and shhhhhed

house sparrows had found their way into an apartment complex and flew between geometric rafters

julius got sick and we sat next to him in an unfamiliar home
a residence that bore the marks of child residents; pink bedroom, drawings on the refrigerator of flowers and the family dog

when our friend got better, we moved on. i could not for the life of me remember how to drive a car, but we found a wagon and my companions sat in it and thanked me for not leaving them alone

they held hands when they thought i couldn’t see
they smiled at each other when they thought i wouldn’t notice

i did, but remembered that i had somebody and had lost her
it wormed at the edges of my consciousness right before sleep

did it bother me that she was probably dead? that what we had was a fleeting dream?

i tried to drown thought in work, dragging my companions in a red wagon behind me
muscles sprouted in my limbs, wiry sinew
i came to be a hunter, a gatherer, a leader, and a mute

my tongue, once so occupied in asking questions and giving answers, would no longer work for me

thus, i found that i could not answer the call we heard in the crater
nor express my wonder at the sight
not cry out in surprise
when the one who’d offered me water in sickness came climbing up to meet us

she has joined us, but will not address me
i hold out hope, though


so, what was really beneath the veil?

factory - for milk products

holding the lights

puddle reflection

pink flower, closer

IMG_0506

factory, our mother

where i met jean

it could not protect us when they came, consciousnesses from the otherspace that exists in the shadow of pins and planets

in a nanosecond, half of the world’s population was gone
in another, those of us who did not fall to our knees in prayer were underground

i made it, she did not

we carved our way into the dark heart of the earth
tunnels lit with red to preserve the adaptation of our eyes

in those rosy passages, i met freya
she had lost somebody too
everybody had

years pass
we don’t know how many

enough for the grey at my temples to turn white
enough for freya’s frown lines to deepen into wrinkles, though she was still beautiful
fierce, independent
an architect

i became an engineer, out of necessity
no use for my former skills down there

disease struck
another blow

the priest said that it was punishment
harry said that god had deserted us
luke said there was no god

freya railed in her final moments, saying that there was a god and he was not good
an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent being
in cahoots with parasite, germ, and demon
malevolent

she clutched our child with her rail-thin arms
dead weight against her ribs

i did not get the illness

we had to surface
the bodies were piling up
no room to breathe anymore
not with the dead staring at us
accusingly; we were in their grave

the world seemed to whimper when we arrived
it was a sound louder than screaming, than gunshots, than the sound
of my son’s slowing heartbeat

i nearly fainted when i heard the sound of thunder
but the rain on my face was like a kiss

the reverend splashed through a puddle and told me that he wasn’t sure what to think
except that we were all children now

orphaned by faith

paul and georgia danced underneath a flowering tree
tears on their cheeks as they swayed on naked feet

we stayed away from cities, former habitations

remembering might make us forget

((Well, this was the second time I wrote this story. The FiveCardFlickr site refused to let me save. I, being a total moron, managed to not paste a copy of the story somewhere and then navigated away from the page. Ugh. So, here’s the second version. Thanks to Tom Woodward and Serena Epstein for their lovely photos!))

Since I liked doing the last post so much…


Five Card Story: i caused it

a ds106 story created by Tempest (Erin)


flickr photo by les.epinards


flickr photo by paulhami


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by Intrepid Flame

i did this. i am a monster. no better than the things i set loose

oh god, oh god, they’re in the stairwell. i can hear their nails scrabbling against the concrete and wood. it sounds like death.

di water. electrical current, something of alchemy, something of chemistry. we weren’t exactly sure what we were doing, but it was important. more important than any of us. not carol, who had discovered the cure for cancer, not damien, who had gone to the middle east and helped people. they were good, [procreating] good people.

i am going to vomit. there’s no hell horrible enough for a [procreator] like me.

we had safety measures. we had containment units within containment units. and those were surrounded by yet more barriers and blockades. we had nothing but the best in mind. alarms seemed unnecessary. the military was only marginally interested. they were the contingency plan. none of this was supposed to happen.

the spooks warned us to leave off, of course. they have a [procreating] sixth sense about these things. we continued on. it was going to be our holy grail, our masterpiece. magnum opus.

i wasn’t there when the thing happened. i was busy watching the latest crichton movie. i was going to ask this chick on a second date (that’s what i told myself).

it never happened. the high alarm sounded and i hightailed it out of there. i knew what it meant, even if i didn’t actively admit it to myself or anyone else. i left them behind and holed myself up in the tallest building i could find.

from there, i saw everything. the mass murder when it started, the exodus of survivors to the docks, which was only more murder when they found that they were out there too, in torpor. waiting. waiting. oh, god. they’re waiting for me too. i’m running out of food.

i have a camera. ihave a [procreating] camera with high zoom. i can see the deaths of others from afar, but this new perspective is not a comfort.

they’re coming. all i can think of is that i should have asked that chick on a second date. even if the world ended in the next minute, at least i would have had that hope. am i the last one left? alive, i mean?

they’re through the door

they are coming they are coming


Five Card Story


Five Card Story: we were warned

a ds106 story created by Tempest (Erin)


flickr photo by paulhami


flickr photo by cogdogblog


flickr photo by cogdogblog


flickr photo by ravnclaw89


flickr photo by ravnclaw89

they told us that this would happen. hints in movies, in comic books, in popular culture… they let us know what was coming and we laughed it off. that which was to serve as warning became jejune, banal, ignored.

we went on with our lives, working, eating, sleeping, [procreating], ants on a [procreating] hill, hauling our [bottoms] out of bed at the crack of dawn while we hurtled towards a future we would have laughed at.

the scientists were busy, the leaders too. they had contingency plans for everything. we had entered the safest [procreating] era the world had ever seen.

nobody was happy, but god[expletive] we were safe.

scientists and leaders, they had alarms for everything. alarms to tell us when we were to be disinfected, alarms to tell us when to get on the trains, alarms to get out of buildings, into buildings, to warn us of threats to our mental and physical health.

and the high alarm. no real purpose existed for it when it was built. kids called it, you’ll get a real kick outta this, kids called it the “get on your knees and find god” alarm.
goycafy. y means yahweh, if you were wondering, since goycafg is a [female dog] to say.

one day the alarm went off. trucks of all kinds rumbled past my door. the wife and kids prayed.

i didn’t.

i followed the trucks until i heard the gurgling of millions of throats. i couldn’t go further. i ran, ran back to my house like a mother[procreating] coward. we latched the gate, bolted the door, closed the shutters, did everything we could.

we could keep them out, but we had locked ourselves in. three weeks in and martha could not stand it. she was the first to give in to the cabin fever. she would stand over the stove, looking at the wood we’d taken from the kitchen table to blockade the windows as though she could see right through it. she liked to sing, you know, before the goycafy.

now she muttered. i listened to her for a little bit, but i could feel her words wind like little worms into my chest.

i couldn’t think like that. it wasn’t fair to the kids.

i woke up on a tuesday (i think) and she wasn’t in bed.

she’d gone out to meet them. i heard movement downstairs.

it was by the grace of some higher power (or maybe a continued cruelty) that we survived. not a bite amongst us. we eluded those [illegitimate boy children].

decision to be made. house compromised, we stole through field and out to the docks. we’re heading to the ocean.

only chance now. corpses don’t move over water, i hear.