That letter I almost-wrote? I almost told you today through a text. It wouldn't have come out the same. The "Hey I almost wrote you a letter saying..." text... I can't imagine the response I would have gotten.
Instead you told me to runaway. Runaway to see you. To LIVE with you. To leave my life behind that I'm apparently messing up and too young to be living. Live with you in a state I've never visited to an apartment I've never even seen in pictures. To an address I've never sent a letter to...
What to do, what to...
I jumped when I saw the mouse scurry across the kitchen floor. The counter sagged and groaned as I sat up on it and screamed. My husband came in and asked what the matter was, so I told him I just saw a huge, black rat. He eyed me suspiciously, but then began to search for it. I pushed the dirty dishes away and pulled my knees up to my chin and remained on the counter.
My husband was down on his knees, looking under the stove.
"It came from over there," I said, pointing towards the pantry.
"You sure...
I was going to the store to buy figs when the kid with the long brown hair ran past me. She was running so fast that her body was on an angle... like 45 degrees and her hair was raking back. There was a big piece of wood stuck to her back.
I bought my figs and then I started the arduous walk home. The girl ran past me again and I was able to stop her.
"Why are you running so fast?" I asked.
"Because of the wood stuck to my back," she said. "It is infested with termites."...
Here are words that don't quite form a story. I'm typing them because I'm compelled to write for six minutes a day as a creative warm-up. If I don't, I get antsy; my palms sweat, my skin itches, I hallucinate. Ok, that's not entirely true, but I do enjoy this activity, and I find that it really helps me "prime the engine" for a more focused day. I work at a radio station, and my job is to write scripts for those goofy things you hear between songs that identify the station. It helps to have a good cup of...
She opened the envelope and screamed. This was what she had been waiting years for, the answer to her quesitons. As sobs racked her body, Casey could tell from her reaction that this was not the news she had been expecting.
"She's not going to talk to you?" Casey whispered, moving closer to comfort her friend, now whimpering face down on the bed.
Angela hiccuped softly," She doesn't want to see me."
Although the search for her mother had been fairly easy, just a few clicks on Facebook, Angela was not prepared for the heartbreak that would come when her...
It was finally here! All those weeks of waiting after sending in the self-addressed stamped envelope to the address on the back of his Superman comic book had finally paid off. Sure, he spent most of the money he earned on the paper route, but it was worth it.
Jack's hypno-goggles had arrived. He grabbed the package from the mailbox and dashed inside, ripping the packaging apart along the way.
What was this? They were just glasses that had a swirly design on them like the kind you could get from a cereal box. They would never work. He put...
She opened the envelope and screamed. Sweepstakes? Her? She never dreamed it could happen, but there it was, after countless magazine subscriptions to periodicals she never intended to read: Guns and Ammo, Creative Quilting, Fantasy Football Insider. Piles of these damned things lined the hallways and rooms of her small, two-bedroom house.
She didn't intend to read the magazines, but at the same time, she couldn't part with them, just in case, just in case one day she could sell them or donate them or look something up in one of them that might, just might be of some importance...
We stared out the attic window of the 3-story blue colonial. It was New Year's Eve; we all survived the hype of the Millenium, and now one year later we were wrapped in each other's arms watching the snow fall. I came upstairs to change my shirt after Pat spilled his champagne on me. I rifled through my suitcase as you ran upstairs after me, worried that I was upset. You said my name and I looked up with wide eyes, so in love with you. Staring at your ice blue eyes, I wondered how I got here, I mean,...
Just the facts, man.
That's how it works right? But sometimes facts aren't enough. I need more. I need more.
The pen quivers beneath my grasp, the words necessary to breathe life to this blank canvas escape me, forcing me to dig down into the unfrequented corners of my mind for wisdom, nuggets of truth, or inane ramblings...or all three.
Shoot. This bio is due in seven hours and here I am huddled in a cold basement awaiting inspiration, mind whirring at the speed of light with nothing in the way of progress visible on the horizon.
I begin to...
A swing. I found my self under one as i awoke to the devestation. Fires raged every which way, how the playground was not on fire I will never know. I decided to walk out, mostly out of fear, and I was horrified with my decision. Right outside the playground, where children played not so long ago, were burned, rotting corpses. They layed therewith out motion, without life, but not without smell. As i hurried back to the playground to retch, I saw out of the corner of my eyes. A woman. Dazed and confused as i was, but still...