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Author: Jeff Shaw

September’s #vss365 Week #1

 September 1, 2019 Shadows merge and the #gloaming begins The oily blackness runs rampant Creeping through the village Thick, plague like Infecting those too afraid to flee Free will is lost to them Chaos and desperation follow Only dawns cleansing light will save them now September 2, 2019 Dried oak leaves rustled across her headstone His first winter without her The autumn of his life Oh how he #loved her “Take me Lord, I cannot go on alone” “You must,” a voice said. “You have much more to do in this life” September 2, 2019 The Earth looks so fragile…

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9/11 and The Falling Man

It pains me today that most of society wants to forgive and forget what happened that day. 2,996 were dead, murdered as we sat in our homes and offices. More than 6,000 wounded, 343 firefighters and 71 police officers died trying to help people they probably never met. And today they are still dying, officers, paramedics, firemen, EMTs, good Samaritans and innocent victims —just from breathing the contaminated dust. On every anniversary of the attack, I post a picture of the falling man on Facebook. It’s an iconic but controversial picture of a man who chose to leap to his…

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Scars

We’re never dispatched into happy homes No, we’re sent into the broken ones We’re tasked to save the stabbed, shot, beaten and brutalized We witness the child holding his broken toy left behind by a burglar The vacant stare in the woman who knows a stranger has been touching her lingerie The anger and grief in a husband who knows he cannot protect his family Night after night, month after month, for years A lifetime We do what we can knowing it will never be enough Then we try to sleep at night, knowing they’re out there

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Flash Fiction #renounce

The once noble knight, stripped of everything but his smallclothes, stood defiantly in the great hall. “Do you #renounce me,” the queen asked, her words reverberating off stone walls. They had been lovers once, until his age betrayed him and she took another, younger man. “I do,” he said sealing his fate. “Death then,” she cried. The sounds of his chains scraping the ancient steps mixed with his mother’s laments and the murmurs of his men. The executioner swung the ax and the black veil of death embraced him. He woke beside her, soaked in his own sweat.

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