In 1992 I acquired this very cool scar on my nose. I used my experience to write a 1,000 word fictional short story that will be published along with 99 other awesome writers flash fiction stories! I would like to humbly request your support, in helping us get my second published story into the hands of many, many, very awesome readers, (such as yourself)!
Thank you for your consideration,
-Zachary W Gilbert
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
The notion of Evolution makes me question my value. Under that system of thought, I am only a product of adaptation, and soulless. If I am a result of random chance, and my matter is nothing beyond, matter, then why do I matter? Under that system, I don’t matter. In the evolutionary construct, did the raw fibers that randomly were woven into the universe as we know it, ever have value? Is an atom valuable? A molecule? Bacteria? A worm? When does value start? The cusp of the belief in God, and the theory of evolution can only be answered after death. The two treads of thought, in the active mind are silenced. Existence may end in nothing, proving value was never there. Or will our dead bodies be planted like seeds in the ground, only to sprout eternal souls, that perceive reality beyond the five senses?
I love to drive my 2015 Ford Mustang Eco-Boost. I have never met the engineers, line workers, or seen the factory where it was made, and yet I believe that they exist. My car is far less complicated than I am. Humanity, I believe was made in God’s image. Is that a shadow dancing on the wall? An echo in the sand? Or a truncated copy of greatness. It may not matter, how ‘In His Image’ is applied. The point is, with God, you have VALUE! Creation silently shouts out God’s echo everyday.
The unseen fire of truth may make shadows dance, and warm the sand, and still be denied. My suggestion, is perhaps you should consider your value, while you are alive, and turn around and see Who gave it to you from the begining.
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Ohh, Sagacious Master Soul,
with dexterity and precision,
you fabricated me, from detritus,
in contemplation, I scrutinize
your prudent decision.
…
My modis operandi,
a putrid pitch,
saturating my thread
of time.
…
In perpetual,
decay, I manducate,
upon the carcass
of sorrow.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Book being born,
time and work yield,
story in stone.
…
In ten years, will I care?
I whisper my soft reply,
after the angry shouts,
pull away from my red ears,
like falling ocean tide,
after a storm.
In ten years, will I care?
…
Writing on pause. For what?
Unloved tasks, given the affection,
of my bursting mind?
Writing on pause. For what?
Pending approval for one whimsical
sentence, scratched on an invisible wall?
Writing on pause. For what?
Kids and Family? Yes. That, is a welcomed pause.
Writing on pause. For what?
Painted pixels, dancing and dying,
within a pre-written tale?
Yet, in a precious moment,
I escape,
My mind, soon spills upon a
blank page!
I pick up, shallow and broken
characters,
my fingers dance life,
into their hungry tale!
I smile,
because the torment of stuggle,
now is upon them.
Writing, un-paused.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
(Zach)
…
Sharpened axe, flies,
swift and silent,
in the forest, then
in a quick moment,
“Zzz ahh kuh!”
echoes through living trees.
…
“Zzz aah kuh”, sounds rattle out,
a blown hum in a buzz,
tongue behind slightly open teeth,
“Zzzz”, swirling noise, born
in darkness of the throat.
An axe raised.
…
“Aah”, the sound of breathing out,
lungs deflate below an open mouth,
Not a sigh, but yet… a pinch
in the dry throat,
a dying breath,
without words.
The axe finds its,
speeding arc, head falling
fast toward its prey.
…
“Kuh!” the back of the tongue,
opening of throat pressed,
a gust of breath pops
loose, a “Kuh!”
The full name said,
the wood now split,
falls over green moss
…
The swung axe,
weeps tree sap,
a fresh gray gash,
sits silent, upon a yellowed
tree stump, spelling the name,
Zach.
…
…
(Green)
Green pine needles,
Sway, under a mountain breeze,
clouds weep life.
…
“Rape!” Earth cries.
Now naked, brown dirt
green clothes stolen.
…
Passport required,
to move near to, Earth’s lost,
greener grass.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
