For today's Daily Post Prompt, 
I am going to write a short diverse piece rather than the usual verse. 
I hope you enjoy reading it.


How do you start a horror story?

How people perceive space, for growth and development, both personal and otherwise is related to the how they are spaced between people and nature.

Sally had always been afraid of heights. Whenever she was at a high place – looking at the city from the 43rd floor terrace of her affluent friends, or watching the sun set from the glass walls of her boyfriend’s 70th floor flat, her eyes would lose focus, the world would suddenly become quiet, and in her mind she would start playing alternate sequences of how things would unfold if she were to suddenly slip, or fall, or if someone pushed her over the edge.

It happens sometimes, doesn’t it, when you get up and you have no idea where you are, except that with Sally, she often had different ideas of where she was when she arose in her bed. For instance, today morning, when she got up, she was convinced she was sleeping on the roof of the tallest building in the city and the roof was her bed. She woke up feeling heady and nauseated and spend the rest of the day thinking what it would be like to stand on the roof of the tallest building in the city, and what if the entire roof was a bed, how would one get off it, what would happen if you rolled off in your sleep?

As she got ready for the evening movie with her boyfriend, she thought how reality was always getting in the way of her mind. Today they were going to see the screening of a psychopathic thriller, not her boyfriend’s brightest idea, after all he must know that she was slightly off in her head, or was he living in his own universe, seeing what he wanted to see, seeing her as the fun, bubbly, charming girl that she was?

She walked into the hall holding on to her man’s arm and felt giddy. This giddy was good giddy, because it was love giddy. Love making language lose structure and etiquette can be easily pardoned. Good giddy, love giddy, made her head fill with pinks and greens and as they took their rear seats she saw the credits rolling and she saw the popcorn guy take out a knife and slit the throat of a man in the third row.



She shook her head. Blinked her eyes. Get out of your mind, she scolded herself and looked ahead. No. The man in the third row was still headless.

Darling did you see that?

Yes darling, I did.

Isn’t that a bit odd? Why is no one screaming?

Babe, look towards the middle section.

She did. And she saw a woman shoot a man in the front row. In the head. Point blank. She even saw bits and pieces of his head fly around.

What the fuck! We should get out of here.

Not yet, the movie is about to begin.

Fuck the movie, let’s go.


Let’s go babe, let’s go.

Survival of the fittest.


That’s what this —-

Let’s g —

—-movie is called

—ooo oh.



Continue reading to Diverse – Chapter 2



Author: pecsbowen


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