Short Story. Fiction. Excerpt. Strings

If any thing in this wide wicked world should be subjective most certainly it must be belief. A matter of perspective is as varied on the various perspectives one might hold from any place on earth.Consider observing an apple on a table. At a mere centimeter from your eyeball that very fruit might tower to you as a massive light blocking dark red structure. It may be so wide as to hinder your view of the table, it’s apple fruity scent may over power the scent of the wood. Perhaps you are so close it’s stem tickles your hairline. A pestering light hover that somehow makes your skin tingle more ferociously than any slap might muster. I find a furious smack to be more numbing than anything but then that’s just my perspective.

Counter point: view that apple from outside the window in your back yard. Go as far away as you can to still see the apple upon the table. Now that red fruit may seem to you insignificant. A small red dot upon a shiny wooden circle.

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Unfinished political peice.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T find out what it means to me, so goes the famous song by Aretha Franklin. We the American people are a nation built upon the ideals of freedom and respect. Did we not break away from England when they looked upon us a colony far lower than the homeland whom they could tax with no just cause? Had we not a civil war over the unfair slavery and dehumanization going on in the south? We have had civil marches to bring a stop to segregation and we have protested wars. We have equality acts and freedom of religion for a reason.

This is supposed to be the land of the free and equal right?

Well what of our chosen representatives?

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