Dew drops, they slip through my lips and settle on my tongue. I taste not grass or stone, but citrus. It was as if they had captured the sunshine through a medley of aromatic notes. Oranges, lemons, grapefruit, lime, cherry. A vibrant array of fruit condensed to one tiny sip. It pops and fizzles against my tastebuds. A carbonated mosaic dances across my mouth. This is the culinary miracle of sunshine in a cup.

Fall is notebooks, papers, pens

Time for school to start again

Fall is sweaters, leggings, boots

Time to put away swimsuits

Fall is apples, crisp and sweet,

Pumpkin Spice, and trick-or-treat

Fall is first frost come by night

And yellow leaves in Autumn light

Fall is family at Thanksgiving

Eating, laughing, reminiscing

She turned away as a tear started down her cheek. Her heart sinking with every step, because she knew there was no going back to him. The eyes that made her heart stop, the voice which caused her legs to quiver, pushed out of her life forever.

There was no attempting to explain. She couldn't put into words the reason she had to break his heart, and the reason she had to break her own. Even if she could find the words, he would never believe her, not for a second. So silently, she walked onward, shutting him out of her life for good.

I want to laugh, but my lungs won't allow it. I feel everything and nothing through the shivers that echoe through the empty caverns of my body: one moment I feel your hand and then you are gone. Again and again.

You are telling me jokes and I want to laugh. I want to laugh at these memories we share and the continuity errors in your story, how one moment you're in the story and then you disappear and it is just me. You are losing your voice and I am losing my will. A machine beeps in red. You hold my hand tighter.

I want you to remind me what it feels like to live because I am forgetting. It has been so long and I feel so empty of something I was once full of: this isn't how I meant it to be. Everything is hurting but the pain is leaving me too. Everyone is here but you are leaving to get a glass of water.

I'm afraid I will die in the moment you go to the sink, and the moment you let go of my hand, the beeping will intensify and you'll spill your water all over your green shirt and you'll call the nurse but it'll be too late and this time it'll be me that's gone. You were always gone and you were always coming back. Now I am leaving and I can't even open my mouth to say goodbye.

I've never felt happiness

That ripples through my bones

Pounds in my heart

And shines from my smile

I've never felt sadness

That keels me over in pain

Drives a knife in my heart

And leaves salt trails on my cheeks

I've never felt anger

That sets a fire in my chest ablaze

Makes me see red

And curls my hands into fists

I've never felt foolishness

That makes me lightheaded

Makes me think anything is possible

And drives away all common sense

I've never experienced hope

That lifts up my heart

Lightens my steps

And brightens my day

I've never experienced hatred

That curls my lip

Turns my head in disgust

And makes my eyes look down on another

I've never experienced love

That fills your heart with joy

Fills your head with fantasies

And drives all other thoughts away

I've never experienced heartbreak

That shatters your heart

Rips apart your self esteem

And eventually builds you back up

I've never lived...

"Mama, mama," the slut cries. "Please don't die, please don't die!" She looks at me through tear-filled eyes, but I know she's really wondering how much she'll get from my will. I could tell her, but choose not to. She's always enjoyed surprises, so she can have her biggest one yet.

The druggie's hands are shaking as he takes one of my hands and kisses it. "I love you, mama," he says, simply. HIS place in my will should come as no suprise, but then, he's never been known for brains.

I hear the gold-digger sobbing, but don't even spare him a look. The sex these last dozen years has been phenomenal and I half wonder how he pulled it off so well, pretending he loves me in his quest for my coffers.

The ice queen, cheater, and thief are also in attendance, presumably to see me off to my next level of being, but what they're really waiting for is my last breath and hence, the end of my grasp on my millions. I look around for Pipsy, the actual recipient of my vast estate, and see her tail at the foot of my bed, in front of the thief.

"Pi... pi ..." I try to call her, but my throat, scarred from years of chain-smoking, will not allow me to complete the word.

"Shh, shh, mother, don't try to talk." The druggie again.

Fortunately, my little bundle of fur knows I was calling for her and she comes bounding to me, too happy to bathe my face one more time. While she readies my face for the after-life, I look upon hers one more time, the only face I care to take in during my last moments.

Her big brown eyes are the most sincere I've seen during my 69 years of life and right now, they hold a sincere sadness; though she can't put it into words, my truest love knows I'll be dead soon and it grieves her badly. Her wet little nose tickles at least as much as her gravilly tongue, but that's okay; her bath eclipses the sponge ones the gold-digger has been giving me for the last few weeks.

A single tear escapes the corner of my eye as I finally manage to say her name. "Pipsy."

Fade-to-black.

This is not how I thought it would be. I was supposed to slip away at dusk, body lying flatly valiant on the creased white sheets. It was supposed to be a crepuscular finale, and I would set as the sun, as the day--a cycle's completion, natural termination. I had made my peace and closed my eyes, set prayers in my heart--of no one religion but of goodness, the universal hope--and fallen away, ready to drift down the river Styx. No longer would I trouble myself with worldly troubles, no longer did I strive painfully for meaning, for purpose. I had my path now, a quiet drop to obseletion.

But I did not fall away, I became snagged and tangled. It all began with my nose. My nose itched like crazy, but I, like the good acetic I was, only deepened my breathing. But who was I kidding? The intense itching continued, disrupting my deep meditation (which I now discovered the shallowness of). And so, God forgive me, I reached my hand up to scratch. I unleashed the floodgates. The world came back in flashes of discomfort and snippets of worry. My back ached, nose ran, and my right knee had stiffened. Every breath brought more daggers, piercing my peaceful surrender, shredding it before my eyes. And even worse were the worries: had I left the will on the table? Why weren't my family here? And then, as dusk turned to night, why wasn't I already gone?

The material turmolt of the physical world insisted I return, luring me unknowingly from my peace, halting my majestic departure with an itchy nose. How inconvenient.

And now it's dawn and I know I'm slipping. My last words? I ask the nurse to draw the blinds. I can't bear to see the rising day. "Goodnight," I tell her, as she leaves. I don't wait to see her pity-tinged smile; my eyes are already shut.

Readers and writers, angels and demons, ladies and gentlemen: we’ve long kept you waiting to see what Prose has in store for you. Today, we hope to satisfy your curiosity with the introduction of Prose Gold and a host of new updates. We created Prose with lofty ambitions: to invigorate the digital landscape with a love of literature, and to revitalize an aging publishing industry. Prose Gold is our next step on that path.

What is Gold?

Prose Gold is a subscription service, which affords readers a near unlimited selection of content at a flat monthly price. We track the number of readers and time spent reading each piece, and distribute earnings to authors. Anyone can publish on Gold to earn a piece of the pie. Gold is available to the first thousand or so Prose loyalists at a never-again price of $5.99/mo.

Publishing to Gold.

We allow everyone to publish on Gold, though Gold subscribers will enjoy a few extra perks. When publishing a new piece, simply check the “Gold (Open)” or “Gold (Restricted)” option before hitting publish. Gold (Open) will leave your post open to the public. Anyone can read it, and any Gold subscriber who reads it will contribute to your monthly earnings. Gold (Restricted) will lock your post, making it available only to Gold subscribers. Anyone can publish to Prose Gold once every 30 days, though Gold subscribers are allowed as many Gold publications as they wish. Further, subscribers publishing to Gold (Open) or Standard are able to set a purchase price on their work.

Payments

We’re moving away from PayPal in favor of credit cards, processed via Stripe. We anticipate that this will lead to a much smoother experience when buying content or sending donations on Prose. Prose “Coins” have been converted into account credit, which you can use just as you would have in the past.

Partners

The “Partners” program is being discontinued for the time being. The features of the Partners program are being moved to Gold. Namely, the option to set a flat price on your post or book and the option to suggest pieces for the spotlight.

Under the Hood

We’ve rebuilt the website from the ground up, to offer a much snappier experience on Prose, and to make way for some of the cool things we have in store.

Portals

We’ll soon be offering Gold subscribers the option to create and curate their own portals. We want to offer expanded flexibility and customization of portals, allowing folks to read, write, and share in their own personalized corner of Prose.

The Bookstore

The Prose Bookstore has a long way to go. We’re working on a number of updates and improvements. Stay tuned.

Prose for iOS

We’ve been so busy on the new website, that we’ve let the iOS app lag behind a bit. We’re working on offline reading functionality, progress tracking, and a number of improvements to the user interface. There’s a big update soon to come.

This is a small taste of all we have in store for you with Prose. Until next time, happy scribbling.

You can check out Gold or subscribe here: https://theprose.com/p/gold

Green in the trees

Green in the leaves

It streaks through the veins

Of vines

That climb

Higher and higher

Till they reach

A green tinged sky

Green eyes

Speckled with leaves

That dance

Like leaves in the wind

Eyes that pierce my soul

And make me think

Of green on my hands

And green on the walls

Green on my paintbrush

Green paint that I streak

Across a white surface

And watch the green spread

Soft green

That I lay my head

Upon

As I gaze at my walls

Of green streaked paint

And in my dreams

I'll dream of green leaves

And beautiful green eyes

From far away you can't see my flaws

But if you look closer

There's a million

Dancing beneath my skin

And I embrace them 

And make them my own

So I can grow

Flaws and all

To be as perfect 

As I can be

Because what makes me flawed

Makes me, me

And I'm perfectly fine

Being flawed

And I'm perfect

Flaws and all