'Ridiculous' the spelling bee judge called out. Christina was confident. Her smile was plastered across her face, she could finally win the spelling bee. 'R I D I C O L O U S' Christina exclaimed. The spelling bee judge called out 'INCORRECT!'. Christina seemed baffled and began to become infuriated. 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN I SPELT IT CORRECTLY' she screamed.
'I'm afraid you said o after the c which is incorrect as it is u' the spelling bee judge calmly responded. Hot tears started to stream down Christina's face, she really wanted to win
It was ridiculous that at my age I could not do anything without my parents getting involved. They were overprotective, talking me out any everything, listing all the possible negatives so I ended up believing them.
At fifty three I was single, living off their generosity, sharing hobbies, going on holiday with them, waking, eating and sleeping the same times as them.
Never had any friends, boyfriends, jobs, excitement of my own.
The police psychologist didn't think it that unusual that I ended up on a criminal career path, he told the court it was inevitable given the strange upbringing....
Ridiculous. Absurd. Absolutely and beyond all normal standards of decency, indecent. That was how I looked in the mirror the morning that I discovered my first gray hair. Or was it my third. I was faced with the overwhelming reality of a head of lustrous, youth-infused auburnness marred by the upright and wiry soldier who insisted on taking up some precious real estate in my brain that could have been much better utilized by a sudoku puzzle or a cure for cancer. How were things now to possibly proceed in a direction other than graveward? What was the sense in...
Absolutely ridiculous. I mean really, how could anyone expect that much of me when I'm only seventeen! So I said no, of course I'm not going to. Then the question came that I'd hoped he wouldn't ask: "why?" Oh, there are so many reasons why but I didn't tell him any of them. I didn't say anything. I just stood there telling myself not to cry, that I never could have said yes even if I wanted to. I tried to convince myself that I didn't want to say yes but I'm still not entirely sure if that's true. Well,...
Ridiculous. This whole argument was absurd but we were going to have it anyway.
"If you heard it, why didn't you pick it up?"
She looked honestly confused but it seemed obvious to me. I scowled at her. "Why is this such a big deal? Yeah, I heard you drop it but I didn't know it was meant for me."
"Did you think it was trash?" Exasperation now threaded her voice and her arched eyebrow told me there was no way I was going to win this one.
"Well, I certainly didn't think it was some super-secret message that I...
Ridiculous.
How much love a heart can hold.
Amazing.
To watch your life unfold.
Uncanny.
How your presence fills the sky.
Unbelievable.
How much is spoken in your sigh
How on earth did you come to me?
Maybe Earth had nothing to do with it.
But a conspiracy of stars
Fuelled by an awe inspiring universe.
My miracle.
Ridiculous. That's how I feel. Every time that I look at my phone.
I know the sodding thing hasn't gone off. Of course it hasn't gone off. I put it in my line of sight so that I will know when it lights up and it's on my desk, I will hear it vibrate when it goes off and yet, ridiculously, I still press the button to check, just on the off chance that I've missed the buzzing and the flashing.
And why? What am I waiting for?
Do I really still expect him to text me when he's been...
Ridiculous.
No, it is, it is actually ridiculous.
I haven't thought about him in months, haven't thought about him like that in years (...well, other than the odd hiccup, but I'm only human)
It is his birthday today. I don't even know how old he is.
I don't know if I care. I don't know if I should care.
I loved him - thought I loved him (did I ever anything-else him?) - for years. Lived with him for years. Wanted him, desperately, for years.
He never wanted me.
Loving someone who doesn't love you - never will - is...
Ridiculous. He had never been so ill-treated in his whole life. To think that such an imbecilic, poorly-dressed, snivel-nosed shit could have the AUDACITY to pour a saintly bordeaux all over his wife put such beet red hues into his cheeks as to suggest asphyxiation, or potential heart failure.
The fat man shook, with an angry tectonic rumble, and the whole room seemed to hold slack for his reaction, volatile elements stirring with life...
"What in the hell do you THINK you ARE DOING!??" the fat fuck rumbles. His gold watch chain jangles with the bulbous rolling of his obese...
Ridiculous. He was being utterly ridiculous.
"Married? You want to get married?" She stared at him with dumbfounded annoyance. He looked completely serious.
"Of course I do. Don't you? What is so absurd about getting married? I thought we were happy."
She closed her eyes for a moment, held them shut tightly, and reopened them. Nope, she thought. Still there. Still looking at me, waiting, expecting.
"Jim, we can't get married. You must be crazy. I was going to ask you to take me home, but I think I'll call a cab." She reached into her purse to pull out...