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...
They were listening. Their ears pressed up against the wall. She held her breath, the clock ticked. Her boyfriend huffed and rolled his eyes. She glared at him and held a finger to her mouth. He was about to speak when it started again.
The yelling, this time it was followed by a crash. Then the low voices. It was odd, it wasn't the usual commotion they heard from the neighbors. The man's voice was urgent, the woman's angry.
Straining, she shifted her weight so she could better press her ear against the wall and when that didn't work she...
The mob held torches like flags, upright and proud, ready for battle with the onion factory. Sons, mothers, daughters, friends, marched on toward revenge. They threw their torches onto the large building, sending smoke signals for miles, saying "we're in charge here!"
For weeks, the town smelled like onions. At first, people sniffed their clothes to make sure it didn't come from their home cooked meals "People" here meaning the people who didn't boycott onions altogether. Most people substituted elephant garlic or onion powder, or just went without the taste. One girl started vomitting at the sight of onions altogether....
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...
We had been the best of friends all though high school. It was summer after senior year and we would soon be off to our respective colleges. This was going to be one last slumber party; one last tribute to the way we had spent most weekends throughout the last four years.
Mindy had brought the tequilla, which was a recent development. I mean, slumber parties as freshmen didn't include booze. I furnished the barn, or rather my parents did. The night was soft and warm and the air was sweet with mown grass, and if you didn't mind the...
The raven sat and contemplated the traveler beneath the moon's harsh gaze. She struggled onwards, leaning heavily on her cane, cloak pulled tight against the bitter cold. Any moment now, she would look up and see her fate sillouetted against the silvery orb.
Just then, a cloud passed between them. The sudden shadow caused her gaze to flit skyward, but all she saw were cotton clouds outlined by silver light. The harbinger of death waited for her to notice him, but once again her eyes looked earthward, focused on the path before her, now brightly illumined by the heavenly bodies....
The key couldn't break.
Forged by the hand of fate
In the fires of adversity
Her love would mold
The white-hot metal
Into the shape it was meant to take
Then
Cooled by her touch
Quenched with desire
It would unlock
Anything
The dawn light crept over the far bank of the Swan River like the terminus. Black in front, grey behind, just changing the quality of the light. Dominique, my girlfriend for that term at Uni, and I were still dressed in our formals; Dominique in a lime ball gown, and I in a dinner suit with black tie. The grassy slope we sat on was dewy.
The grey light rolled down like a curtain in reverse and hit the bank - a memory bank for me. Over there, I had ridden my cycle to my Uncle and Aunt's. As a...
"Following up from the fight we had last night Darren"
"I don't wanna talk about it Judy"
I can see the fear in Darren's eyes, i know he wants to tell me something, I just don't know what. His hands are trembling, while peeling the potatoes preparing for dinner. The look on his face is getting worrying. He suddenly falls to the floor, the peeler is down there with him. What did he do? What did I do? 911. PLease..
She opened the fridge and took out a jar of pickles. Rubbing the condensation off her fingers onto her jeans, she prized the lid off and pulled out a spear.
Crunching away, she rifled through the crisper drawer, but didn't find anything appealing. She noticed there was still paint on the back of her hand, but she was too tired to rub it away.
The house was quiet, except for the snoring of her husband, which carried through the house. She was beginning to feel like she heard more from him when he was asleep then when he was awake....