Blahsphemy

The. Did you just start a story with the? Amazing! You are so fucking cliched. 

The line never changed. It was born to be so. Legend has it that he went down history as the straight line. 

The mad man looked familiar. Where have we seen him? Think? Didn't we see him in the mirror, today?

The floor gave away. It was holding up everything on it all these years. It remembered the fresh cement smell when it was built way back in 1886. Soon everything changed. People started walking all over it. The heavy furniture started bruising it. Anything dropped carelessly left permanent scars. Chemicals were spilled. Holes were drilled. Carpets smothered it. The weather left cracks. Not to mention the constant pressure gravity exerted on it. The floor held on nevertheless. But today was different. It suddenly felt too weak. Too weak to go on. Or did gravity become stronger? It lay there in pieces wondering about what went wrong.  

She was white. All her kids were black. The world laughed. For everything about her life was in black and white. 

 The prophet is back. He is there on that rock overlooking the sea. That's where he gets his visions from. Maybe I should also try climbing up that rock one day. Who knows what visions are there in store. 

Everyone wants to look into everyone else's houses and forget all about looking at their own houses.