There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
Well, "standing" may be the wrong word. There's someone IN the corner of my room. The lights are off; only moonshine streaming through the window above my bed gives shape to the darkness there. It's bulky; that much I know. It's BIG, bigger than me. The size of its shadow dwarfs my small frame, or would anyway, if I dared move from beneath the covers of my linen sheets.
Feet tucked safely in, the monsters under my bed can't get me, but if I move the alien - for surely that's...
"Hello?"
There was nothing on the other end of the line but silence. "Hey, can you here me? Is anyone there?" Martin waited. "I didn't imagine it, did I?" He hung up. He grabbed his bag of food, and went outside, when he stopped for a moment, then turned back to the cash register and emptied it. Besides about $200 there was also an old picture inside, showing three women. Martin inspected the time stamp. Sept. 20th 1922. Just then, he heard a "BING..." as the atomatic doors opend.
"Saranghae."
His words made my heart stop.
"What did you say?" I whispered, not daring to look back at him.
" I love you Hye Jin. I said I love you. So please..Come back. Be mine." Sae Joon reached for my hand, but I quickly slapped it away.
"No! I..I'm not good enough for you. I have to leave. I have to get out of here." I stepped towards the plane entrance and held back my tears.
"You can't please!" Sae Joon fell to his knees and hugged my leg.
"Joon..Please don't make this harder than it needs to be....
The elephant dragged its feet. Meanwhile a man with a mustache spun in circles. A pink tutu hung limply around his waist, and the cigar held loosely in his mouth dropped ash onto the pavement. Olivia hated art movies, but she had agreed to join Richard. It was something about him wanting to impress his artsy friends. He didn't even know what all this meant. Olivia was sure that no one in the room did.
It was a little like placing a few blocks in a room and calling it art. She had gone to a museum with Emily recently....
It was rather like being a ghost. Vicarious snooping. A social media haunting (stalking?). The only way to keep in touch with the untouchable children, who were no longer part of life. Maybe, the FaceBook groups should have been diplomatically UNLIKEd, given that they were only there because of previous parental responsibilities. Or the Messenger App blocked, due to ocassional earthquake requests, unsettling and unfooting in their simple, direct, but untimely demands.
Finding out a once was daughter has the lead in her drama group's next production, via accidental browsing of a stream. Realising another was home from university, only...
Marjorie was drowning. She felt the pull of the water on her legs and the icy shock in her heart. She hadn't even felt the hands on her back as she strolled along the darkened pier. She knew she was going to die and deep within her soul knew that she didn't want to. She kicked with all her might and little by little she began to ascend toward the surface. Her legs tangled up in weed attached to the piers structure like an obscene cat's cradle. She hauled at it, tearing her skin as she did so, the salt...
Shattered.
She had always had a fondness for that word, the way it reflected the brokenness it supposedly defined, the way the consonants lined up, hard and jagged on the ears and soul. Maybe that was part of its appeal. She had always had a fondness for broken things...
She stared at the black screen before her, out of practice and rapidly running out of time as the timer quietly mocked her, accused her, with its silent countdown. Time was running out. Would she have time enough to mend the shattered peices of her soul? In the seconds that remained...
It wasn't my fault. It couldn't have been. She was dead when I got there.
I know my fingerprints were on the gun. It was my gun, of course my fingerprints were on it. Yes, I was the last one to see her alive. But that was hours before she died. I do stand to inherit a large sum of money. I loved her. Why would I kill her over something like that?
The CCTV could easily have been doctored. Besides, you don't see the killer's face. It must be a coincidence that she and I have the same build....
Sienna and Kate were best friends. They did everything together, they were like sisters. One day they were in Technology class and the teacher had separated them since they were being distracting, the lesson passed and the teacher annopunced that there was only 5 minutes left, the girls looked at eachother and gave eachother a smirk. they were both thinking of the same thing, to go to the resturaunt after school and get food.
The school bell rang and the girls raced to the resturaunt, they orderd their food and sat down, a handsome boy walked past them and sat...
How endlessly the ocean seems to stretch out over the horizon. It never ends as it drifts beyond view, but you and I both know that even though it continues further than our sight, it will go on to find its end at some far off beach on some other continent. There, someone will stand at it's shore and look out the way that we are now and make the same observation. We will then be the ones that cross their minds as some strangers with our toes in the sand, creating some cycle of perception of one another. I...