It was warm and dark, inside the riduculously large cave. I looked at huge stalagmites jutting up from the floor like spears. I saw a man, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cave, a fire burning beside him. I smelled something I couldn't quite place, something delicious. "Hello. What brings you to the cave of the shaman?" he said, waving me closer. I took a single micro-step forward, puzzled by this strange hermit. "I'm here for the Meaning of Life. I was told that you held it here." i said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes. But first,...
Mr. Floppers was clearly possessed. He watched little Billy eating his breakfast, his beady black eyes cold and unfeeling. Billy had felt uneasy ever since his father shoved the still warm plush body into his arms a few days ago.
There was something not right about that bunny. Not right at all.
At first it was little things. The staring. The unmoving frown. Then Billy noticed the bunny seemed to move from where he'd placed him.
Last night he'd had a nightmare in which his fluffy companion crouched over him, opening his mouth to reveal a set of cold white...
It happened gradually. Never when he was looking at it, never exactly the moment he turned away.
It grew. The green-ish mold-like whatever grew. So slowly, it was like watching the Tar Drip experiment. Again. It grew floating inside a near-absolute vacuum in a spherical glass container, with nothing to support its growth.
Well, there was sunlight, but no matter how efficient it was, it couldn't possibly synthesize matter from that.
The worst part was that when he released the vacuum, the particles scattered everywhere. All he could then was to reinstate a vacuum in the container and hope some...
She peered over her laptop screen, wishing that during her youth she had plucked her eyebrows into a thin line like her mother's - they always managed to make her look more stern than she every really was.
Right now, she would have given anything to be able to pull that off.
Somehow she'd managed to get the class quiet and at least convinced them into acting as though they were doing their work. But it had been a hard battle.
It wasn't that she viewed her entire career as a teacher as a war, just this class, and a...
He gasped for breath and looked around. The room was dark but he could sense there was someone there. Hello he said, barely audible. No response. Hello? this time a bit louder. From the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of light. At thesame time his nostrils filled with the putrid stench of what smelled like rotting fish. The room started to shake, he lost his footing. Tyring to grab on to the nearest thing possible he screamed when he touched what may once have been a hand but now was bone with some slime like substance that...
She should have been writing. Instead, she watched the time slide away from her.
5'44". 5'32". 5'11".
What was this? she asked—not herself, but God, the heavens, the hall monitor, anybody but herself. Was this paralysis?
No. This was a choice. And even though she closed her eyes, she still couldn't get away from that.
4'09". 3'58".
Why not write? There was the prompt on the page. She could do this. She was good at this. She always had been, always, always. Write on command. Paper comes back; mark at the top.
She didn't work hard for years and take...
Swing.
I would sneak out my window at night when both my parents were asleep. I'd walk the block and a half to the schoolyard, sit in the middle swing of the playground and sing to myself until he got there. Then he'd push me gently to and fro while we talked about the day, about tomorrow, and the tomorrows after that.
Swing.
We met that way for a year until his parents found out and installed alarms on all their windows and doors. They thought it was drugs, or teenage trouble he was after. But it was just to...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. She'd always been a fan of electricity. She recalled the first time her mother had given her a knife and set her down in front of the light socket. "Go on...Stick it in there good now honey" her mother had told her. And the jolt. Wow. Margaret knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life from that very first light socket. Electricity would be her calling. And boy did she answer that call.
As a young girl she would put on shows for the kids on the block by hopping in the...
5,4,3,2,1
You won't remember this
Not long now. A shame really.
All because of the accident.
You don't have either the Ends or the Means.
Hell, the Ends justify the Means?
We all know some cheat, especially because they think it won't matter.
What's the point in doing that anyway.
This is no cut and paste to fill the page cheating.
In life (for every other dumb schmuck) you can't cut and paste.
All because of the accident.
6 minutes is all you've got.
It's not like this is even real.
Barely even conscious. Funny that!
It must be SO...
"The proles are revolting" the minister shouted. "They stink on ice" chimed another.
The prince stood montioned for silence and spoke. "My Grandpere was a prole which makes me 1/4 prole and I'll have no such talk in here." "Now if theres no objections let's get the hell out of here!" "The train for Geneva is leaving soon, Proles be damned!"