Tired

To them, I’m always this bastard–a brand of shame I came to know by the spiteful words whispered on every corner of the street. That’s all they see. Maybe tonight, they’ll learn.

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This post was made in response to Trifecta Writing Challenge where writers are challenged to use a given word in an entry. This week’s word is BRAND (noun) which could mean any of the following (at least for the purpose of this challenge):

a (1) : a mark made by burning with a hot iron to attest manufacture or quality or to designate ownership
(2) : a printed mark made for similar purposes : trademark
b (1) : a mark put on criminals with a hot iron
(2) : a mark of disgrace : stigma
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It’s Just the Crickets

In the foggy scene of darkness and red, she couldn’t grasp what and why was she waking up blood-soaked. She heard shallow breathing, slowly fading, until the crickets chirped alone in the silence.

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This is my first post in response to Trifecta Writing Challenge where writers are challenged to use a given word in an entry. This week’s word is Grasp (verb) which particularly means to lay hold of with the mind: Comprehend.