My friends are so annoying they threw fake snow all over me as my perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe came out of the oven. I hate it when my friends team up against me like I really don't like it because they treat me like nothing, like I mean nothing to them, I know that sometimes people get annoyed and sometimes even a bit moody. But still, I want to know that I belong, that they care about me and that they need me, but really it's annoying. it is now going to take ages to get this fake snow...
Her joints screamed as the winter chill ran through her veins and iced her skin. It was so cold out and this blizzard was never-ending.
Julia huddled around the oven pumping heat into the 500 square-foot apartment, something her mother said to never do but it's not like the heat worked.
"Why the hell did I go out there?" Julia said aloud to the appliances.
She threw Ryan out for a reason but months of anticipation made the actual act much harder. She wasn't even sure if it was going to be today, but in the end it was. He...
Heating nothing as I refrigerate.
Eating nothing as my body preserves.
We eat and are ultimately eaten.
Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.
We are products for sightless feeders.
Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.
Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.
Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.
This oven of nothing is heated anyway.
I stare at the flames to assert my intention.
I am alive for now. For now.
Think warm thoughts.
Everyone hears about the other problem. Spontaneous Human Combustion, like it's some mysterious force. Ninety percent of the time, it's just a smoker who nodded off in a polyester easy chair. As if it's some big mystery. The other ten percent, you have your idiots that accidentally got soaked in lighter fluid, people trying to fry things, and other morons. Investigators act like it's so mysterious, but that is just because they don't understand fire. How it works, how it feeds. It's a bunch of pseudo-science, like a medieval doctor trying to cure people through bloodletting and...
Sarah draped a second blanket over her shoulders and cupped her hands over her mouth. She huffed on her fingers in an attempt to warm some feeling back into her frozen digits. It had only been three days since the power had been cut off, but already her apartment felt as if it had never been heated. When she had woken that morning, she had felt as if she were lying on a block of ice instead of a bed, and upon finally slipping from beneath her inadequate duvet, she had been shocked to see that frost had formed on...
"Should I do it?"
"What if I am found out?"
The struggle raged on in Wendy's head. It had all been too much for her. She had lost her job just the month before. Now she was struggling to keep the strands of life together. There was no food in the refrigerator, bills were piling up, there were too many empty wine bottles and worst of all, her friends no longer called her.
"What can I do," she asked herself. "There's just no other way than this."
Sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the oven, she struggled with...
It was cold, so cold. I had been held captive in this house for a little over 6 months now, and i was starting to go cabin crazy. The tiny oven was the only source of heat until my captor got home. I recalled the day i was kidnapped. I had been walking with friends in Central Park. Suddenly, a man grabbed me from behind and chloroformed my friends. I had been tied up, and had been laying in the back of a truck for a few hours before i saw where i was. It was al little house, in...
She sat cold in her bedroom; freezing. Holding the book to her chest like she couldn't let it go. That book held all of her secrets. Good and bad, ones that could even get her, and some others arrested.
She knew she had to pull herself together; at this point she was sobbing, thinking of everything that was going on in her life, why she was sitting in a nightshirt in the 60 degree house when it was -8 outside, when she could be bundled up somewhere else where it was actually warm outside.
She opened her journal for some...
Karen, Jersey girl extraordinaire, departed Manhattan for the left coast two years ago. She'd brought her big hair and big dreams.
After slim pickings and several waitressing gigs she knew that she'd arrived. Finally a part she could be proud of. She was playing the new mom on "I didn't know I was pregnant."
Hugging her knees, Tanya stifled another sob. Her face felt swollen and sore, yet numb from the pain. Sitting in the pitch black, the only light coming from the oven which was still humming beside her. The lasagna she had been making for tea splashed across the floor and up the walls.
She could hear Tim banging upstairs, the slamming of cabinets in the bathroom as he got changed. He couldn't go to the pub with blood on his shirt, could he?
Tanya knew she would have to clear up the mess at some point, but for now she was...