She carefully set her can of Pepsi down on the grime smeared bench under the phone, not wanting to spill a drop of the liquid within. She'd used almost her last bit of money to buy it, making a choice between that and a bar of chocolate. She had tried to remember whether death came faster from thirst or hunger, and although at the time she was sure she had made the right choice, now she wasn't convinced. Her stomach shouted angrily at her, the ravenous wolf inside clawing and snarling, making her clutch her belly in pain.
It didn't...
The force pulled me off the ground against my will, I found myself sucked into the base of the UFO and into a large silver chair, restraints locked, eliminating escape.
Darkness, few bright pulsating lights in the distance, piano music filling the space. Terrified I tried pushing my wrists against the metal knowing it a useless waste of energy.
Loud whooshing sounds like an ocean in my ear magnified to unbelievable levels. Shutting my eyes expecting death then opening to find myself in bed alone.
The out of body experience manual beside me.
It worked.
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...
The sound reverberated through the streets. It was as inevitable as an old man passing gas. The sound of children of all ages gnashing their teeth as the electricity that powered their individualized false realities went out.
The modest city had been the birthplace of televitality, and was therefore the first to experience what was optimistically known as "progressive population decline." With the ability to meet perfect friends, perfect mates and raise perfect children in through completely realistic virtual interface few people felt the impulse to have actual families.
Most people also worked artificially, their movements on the elestairs and...
I shall wait.
I shall wait for the timer to go through it's course.
Wait for the little seconds to pass me by.
Produce nothing of content.
Produce nothing of consequence.
Just words strung together in a jumbled sort of way.
Words become random assortments of letters.
Meaning is lost in the rush to get them out.
It's killing me.
Realizing that six minutes is such a vast distance of time.
And yet my brain cannot seem to function adequately.
I like to sip my stories like brandy.
I like to savor my poems, swish their contents around my mouth...
A heart is a beating machine. It's an organ, it's a force beyond all reckoning.
The doctor will now see you," said the nurse in all white.
I glared, knocked over my coffee and walked behind her, moving towards my fate. I would hear that my beating heart skipped beats-a heart murmur. Murmur echoing in my head. Mumu-a dress I wore in Hawaii as a young girl. My mother was in Pearl Harbor when the Japanese attacked.
The doctor was in the room before I was. Is this a good sign. He's anxious to tell me my heart will explode....
The poor thing had followed a Marine from the wharf to the deck of the aircraft carrier; someone had put a leash on it and of course he was named Devil. He was the mascot for the Bravo Company and even the officers pretended not to see. And even if the Sailors had said anything, a Marine or twenty would have made sure they forgot, quick.
Devil Dog was a mutt, a half-starved thing that a Marine on leave had tossed a bit of bread at, to impress the pretty Australian broad on his arm. The Marine didn't get the...
She wanted to hear the whispers in the next room, but the pleading to her ears were also unheard. She stretched up onto her toes as if height would give her hearing a greater advantage.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Go away!" she frantacilly whispered, ushering her little brother out of the room with her eyes.
She suddenly heard footsteps approaching, and she pressed her small frame against the wall as to not to be seen. The red drapes of the gown following like an obedient shadow.
"If that is what she wants, that is how it will be."
The...
when you click here the prompt will appear and the timer will start
Harry had taught her well. Any failings during the performance would be entirely her fault, but she wasn't worried.
Harry had taught her well.
She felt her hair drift about her head like a mermaids veil, her garments float on the current like a breeze, and the gaze of her lover as she fished for the key.
Harry had taught her well.
She'd concealed the key just as she'd concealed her knowledge of his affair. Not to be outdone, the student became the master of deception in...
The cover image for the book was not exactly what she had envisioned. Then again neither was the book really. But she was published, that's what mattered right? True she had used a pen name, but she knew the book was hers. The words on the pages her doing (well most of them anyway). But that image. It really didn't have all that much to do with the story in the book. Would people be disappointed when they read it? Would it make it more buyable as the publisher claimed. Well it was out of her hands. Thank God she...