I forgot to post this from the Grateful Dead song Eyes of the World, the last verse followed by the chorus. It's 91 words. A YouTube link to a live version from '77 is at the bottom.
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own
Glorious summer yellow fills the back yard. It’s full of humming like always in the afternoon from all the bees. And the flowers themselves. Their black eyes stare at the sun, because they love it so, I guess. Bart next door had black eyes too. He set the grass afire one day and the flowers screamed awfully, I couldn’t bear it! Neither could Bart, his heart stopped in its tracks and the fire scorched him too. The ashes and Bart are gone now and the daisies sing in the sun.
scrape, scrape, scrape.... the eyes...the eyes... they see me...
"MARY! Good god girl, you've peeled those 'taters down to the bone!"
Mary stopped. A curl of peel hung for a moment then plopped wetly into the dirty sink. She put the peeler down slowly, sensing her mother's baleful stare.
"You know we've a guest for dinner, don't you, Mary Moo..."
"....yes mother."
"Another guest means another mouth to fill. Better go dig up some more then, my girl."
That was good! I remember being freaked out by potato eyes when I was little. I thought they were really eyes. There's just something weird about things that grow in the dark too.
exactly!... and the inference is that there's... something buried in the garden... something other than potatoes... previous "guests" perhaps... that's what i was trying to suggest
Almost glaring, with an unnervingly blank expression.
I tried to turn away and pretend it wasn’t bothering me, but each time I turned back, they were still there, constantly staring and watching my every move.
They just wouldn’t stop, and seemed to be enjoying making me feel uncomfortable.
And that’s when I’m fairly certain they winked.
It was starting to really freak me out, and I had no idea what to do about it.
I’d never cooked a whole Trout on my own before… 😎
I watched as he walked in, shaking the rain off his coat and doffing his hat as he did so. He peered idly around the joint, seemingly unimpressed with the clientele. I could feel his steely glare the moment he saw me. As he approached, I tried to become invisible. I felt the eyes of everyone, burning like laser beams through my back.
It had been this way since yesterday morning when she and Joey had walked out of the bank. Easy money he said, now they were on television.
When the golden seraphim appeared, shining like the very wrath of God, all covered in eyes and wings, it uttered “Be not afraid”. Tom took no comfort in this and screamed his bony ass off.
“Don’t kill me! Ah, Jesus, please! It wasn’t me!”
He said wasn’t, wudint, and threw his arms over his face like he was shielding himself from something bright, which he was. The something bright was a yellow neon stripper sign with devil horns, plus a forked tail and Angel wings that blinked up and down.
It was going to cost extra for color. That much I knew. What I didn't know is that Chroma Eyes weren't a one-time purchase but rather a subscription service you had to keep for the rest of your life--or at least for the lifetime of your new mechanical eyes.
They don't tell you this until after the surgery, until after you're equipped with the eyes fabled to "never fail."
I can't afford another subscription. I already have so many.
Thankfully there's a free version of color vision available. With ads.
I felt a sudden shift. You know, that Erie sensation when you realize someone’s watching you? Not just watching, studying.
My heart raced as I sat at the outdoor café, pretending to casually glance around. People were chatting and passing by, but no one seemed focused on me.
Was I just paranoid? Maybe too much caffeine, or just another spiral of overthinking.
Then I looked down and there he was… my poodle staring up at me with that familiar head tilt, I couldn’t escape his silent judgmental eyes. What did he expect from me?
I witnessed plenty of weird things working as a porter for Harlan’s. Employees and customers vanished into thin air, grew strange appendages, and spoke in arcane languages. Sometimes, I’d be buzzed to aisles that weren’t there before, filled with items that didn’t exist. One night, while cleaning the bathroom, I heard someone thrashing in one of the stalls.
“These aren’t the eyes I paid for, damnit!” Someone screamed.
I heard a plop, then nothing. Curious, I opened the door to discover a pair of blue eyeballs floating in the toilet.
"I'm pretty certain after all these years, I got the wrong human. Oh dear"
More seriously an ever present watcher is common in many belief systems, from guardians to gods and even things less rigorous. To believe that wee spirits curiously watch you, a restraint and comfort perhaps, and putting aside a number of large beliefs, who knows...
At the least, does the spider on its web see and think naught?
A warm though odd piece, of a watched and watcher.
I forgot to post this from the Grateful Dead song Eyes of the World, the last verse followed by the chorus. It's 91 words. A YouTube link to a live version from '77 is at the bottom.
Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own
Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has its beaches, its homeland and thoughts of its own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has its seasons, its evenings and songs of its own
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqK9KCKqacs
oooooo I love this so much!
Aw, thank you Jess!
This is soooo creepy!!! I would lose my mind.
Really? I would suspect you to be a fan of your own personal ghoul haha
It’s the passive acceptance I couldn’t handle, I’d have to touch it or talk to it. I can see myself getting a little obsessive over it😅
Okay, I'm a day behind but here it is anyway:
Glorious summer yellow fills the back yard. It’s full of humming like always in the afternoon from all the bees. And the flowers themselves. Their black eyes stare at the sun, because they love it so, I guess. Bart next door had black eyes too. He set the grass afire one day and the flowers screamed awfully, I couldn’t bear it! Neither could Bart, his heart stopped in its tracks and the fire scorched him too. The ashes and Bart are gone now and the daisies sing in the sun.
Don’t feel pressured into joining in every day :) Feel free to write on any of the older prompts if they catch your attention!
Confronting the Unspeakable
Rachel sat across from Detective Palmer, her gaze fixed on the chipped edge of his coffee cup. His eyes, cold and unblinking, followed her every move.
“You sure you’ve never seen him before?” Palmer’s voice cut through the stale air.
She shifted in her seat, crossing her arms tighter. The click of a camera from behind her echoed in her mind. Her pulse quickened.
Miller leaned in, sliding a photo across the table—two lifeless eyes staring back at her.
Rachel’s fingers trembled. Seconds of silence. “I’ve seen him.”
scrape, scrape, scrape.... the eyes...the eyes... they see me...
"MARY! Good god girl, you've peeled those 'taters down to the bone!"
Mary stopped. A curl of peel hung for a moment then plopped wetly into the dirty sink. She put the peeler down slowly, sensing her mother's baleful stare.
"You know we've a guest for dinner, don't you, Mary Moo..."
"....yes mother."
"Another guest means another mouth to fill. Better go dig up some more then, my girl."
"Yes mother."
"But don't go digging too deep now, d'ya hear?"
That was good! I remember being freaked out by potato eyes when I was little. I thought they were really eyes. There's just something weird about things that grow in the dark too.
exactly!... and the inference is that there's... something buried in the garden... something other than potatoes... previous "guests" perhaps... that's what i was trying to suggest
Oooh that is creepy! Maybe do a longer story about that?
yeah... theres something in that... although i did write one that was already a bit like that...
That first line is so good!
PROMPT: EYES
THE EYES
They were looking straight at me.
Almost glaring, with an unnervingly blank expression.
I tried to turn away and pretend it wasn’t bothering me, but each time I turned back, they were still there, constantly staring and watching my every move.
They just wouldn’t stop, and seemed to be enjoying making me feel uncomfortable.
And that’s when I’m fairly certain they winked.
It was starting to really freak me out, and I had no idea what to do about it.
I’d never cooked a whole Trout on my own before… 😎
I watched as he walked in, shaking the rain off his coat and doffing his hat as he did so. He peered idly around the joint, seemingly unimpressed with the clientele. I could feel his steely glare the moment he saw me. As he approached, I tried to become invisible. I felt the eyes of everyone, burning like laser beams through my back.
It had been this way since yesterday morning when she and Joey had walked out of the bank. Easy money he said, now they were on television.
9/8/24 “On the Road to Damascus”
Microdose Eyes 90 words
When the golden seraphim appeared, shining like the very wrath of God, all covered in eyes and wings, it uttered “Be not afraid”. Tom took no comfort in this and screamed his bony ass off.
“Don’t kill me! Ah, Jesus, please! It wasn’t me!”
He said wasn’t, wudint, and threw his arms over his face like he was shielding himself from something bright, which he was. The something bright was a yellow neon stripper sign with devil horns, plus a forked tail and Angel wings that blinked up and down.
“Look into my eyes,” she said.
But he knew it was a trap.
Her eyes were blue like the ocean; he was sure to drown.
A smile graced her lips. “Afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
“N-no,” he stuttered.
“Then look.”
He turned down to look and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
In her eyes, he could see his reflection.
He was lost out in sea.
But he wasn’t drowning. And he wasn’t alone.
They laughed as they swam together. In the world behind her eyes.
dreamy and full of sensual mystery. very nice!
I knew some people with eyes you could drown in. Great take I love the story!
It was going to cost extra for color. That much I knew. What I didn't know is that Chroma Eyes weren't a one-time purchase but rather a subscription service you had to keep for the rest of your life--or at least for the lifetime of your new mechanical eyes.
They don't tell you this until after the surgery, until after you're equipped with the eyes fabled to "never fail."
I can't afford another subscription. I already have so many.
Thankfully there's a free version of color vision available. With ads.
can you imagine Ads coming onto your eyes... for EVER and you didn't read the small print... because your eyes were being replaces.... the EYErony
Hahahaha 😄
Such a cyberpunk micro haha I love it.
THE WAY YOU LOOK (Triggers: Sexuality; Erotica)
Walking down the street, she wears nothing special. Nothing provocative. A loose t-shirt, ripped jeans, sandals.
Eyes still find her. Some meet hers. Some take in all of her. Some only look at her breasts. Might she be braless? Are her nipples hard?
Sometimes ... the very best times … when the right eyes look, it turns her on very much.
Everyone is looked at. But how it makes you feel is such a personal response. Who is to judge that reaction? Who is to say how it feels to be you?
Thank you for joining in Ema!
I felt a sudden shift. You know, that Erie sensation when you realize someone’s watching you? Not just watching, studying.
My heart raced as I sat at the outdoor café, pretending to casually glance around. People were chatting and passing by, but no one seemed focused on me.
Was I just paranoid? Maybe too much caffeine, or just another spiral of overthinking.
Then I looked down and there he was… my poodle staring up at me with that familiar head tilt, I couldn’t escape his silent judgmental eyes. What did he expect from me?
Some dogs see straight through your soul haha.
They sure do! Judgy mcjudgers!! Lol
poodles... behind those curls... theyre pure evil. wolf in sheeps clothing, literally.
They’re the most human dogs I’ve known. Their judgement cuts deep.
My brain thought: "Woof in sheep's clothing" 🤣
😆😆
"Eyes"
I witnessed plenty of weird things working as a porter for Harlan’s. Employees and customers vanished into thin air, grew strange appendages, and spoke in arcane languages. Sometimes, I’d be buzzed to aisles that weren’t there before, filled with items that didn’t exist. One night, while cleaning the bathroom, I heard someone thrashing in one of the stalls.
“These aren’t the eyes I paid for, damnit!” Someone screamed.
I heard a plop, then nothing. Curious, I opened the door to discover a pair of blue eyeballs floating in the toilet.
That's actually an insanely good premise for a longer story. Such a weird work place.
Based off an old grocery store I used to work at.
eeeew. lovely and awful... eyes are just creepy arent they!
"I'm pretty certain after all these years, I got the wrong human. Oh dear"
More seriously an ever present watcher is common in many belief systems, from guardians to gods and even things less rigorous. To believe that wee spirits curiously watch you, a restraint and comfort perhaps, and putting aside a number of large beliefs, who knows...
At the least, does the spider on its web see and think naught?
A warm though odd piece, of a watched and watcher.
All I can think of right now is a song…
These eyes have seen a lot of loves, but they’re never gonna see another one like I had with you.