The lamp wouldn't turn on. The bed felt heavy on the other side. A draft of warm and slobbery air was on his neck. He flicked and flicked the switch, and failing and rubbing his finger raw he leapt out of the bed and ran to the wall. The lights coming on, the room appearing all at once its sterile, diseased-yellow look. The covers tousled, pillows strewn, the light greyish-yellow stain like a teardrop on the wall behind the simple wrought-iron headboard.
Panting now, hand clasped tight on the switchplate, and wits coming back only like a smoldering fire. There...
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...
The moon was judging me. There was no doubt about it. It was staring me in the eye like a big pizza pie. Judging.
Okay, fine. Maybe I shouldn't have spread all those rumors about you, moon! No, I don't believe you're actually made of the blood and sweat of innocent cheeses. No, I don't believe you're the one who secretly caused the Great Chicago Fire, or that you tap our phone lines and replay particularly embarrassing conversations with ex-girlfriends back for the constellations. I just say these things because you frighten me, quite frankly.
I'm only human, though. What's...
Det kom en dag i hodet på meg. Og jeg så det aldri før enn da. Det var noe som hadde hengt over meg i lengre tid. Jeg visste det var på tide å snu. Jeg visste at jeg en dag ville jeg angre og en dag ville det hele virke meningsløst. Jeg så aldri tilbake. Men nå skulle jeg endelig snu. Det skulle bli min tur å være den gode, jeg er lei av å være den som alltid må gi - jeg trenger å få noe jeg også. Jeg trenger nærhet. Jeg trenger varme. Jeg trenger en som...
She was the most delicate girl in town. A town that thrived on beauty. It was everything, and so was she. When I first met her, we were on a field trip in 6th grade. Back then, she wasn't even wearing make up yet. A completely different person. So, of course I was nervous when I woke up next to her.
"What are you thinking?", she asked me. I didn't know what to say. All I felt was shame. "Didn't you like it?" "I did."I lied. "So, what's the problem? I know you wanted me since high school." "Yeah, but...
There were two hot girls at the side of the bar. I walked up to them.
"Hi," I said. "My name is Patrick and I do not want to get laid."
"That is very admirable," one of the girls said. "Especially since I chose this dress because it shows off my ample breasts."
"Both of us are ovulating," the other girl said. "That means that our bodies want babies even though we, as social creatures, have no desire to be mothers at this exact moment."
"It is a good thing I have no desire to father children with you," I...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. Instead, she got the eclectic stare. Why did she always attract the weird ones?
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
An American girl, a lost girl. Separated from everything she had ever known in the world. Just 18, but young enough to be scared to death. Her bright blue eyes and mahogany hair were a dead giveaway that this girl didn't belong. Her eyes met mine and I motioned to her with my left hand. She was shocked, like a deer in headlights; I could tell she was thinking, "why me." The look on her face was one that was asking for help - when she...
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....
Marvin knew that he had to return the salad dressing. Last night, it started screaming at him. "BRING ME DWARVES!" it yelled. Strange, since as far as Marvin knew, salad dressing does not have vocal cords.
So he put the salad dressing in a baggie and threw it in the back of his backpack. He could hear the salad dressing yelling. "I HATE THE DARK AND I HATE THE WARMTH!!! THIS IS WORSE THAN THE FRIDGE! THAT WAS DARK BUT AT LEAST IT WAS COLD!!!"
Down the stairs Marvin ran. As he pushed his way out the door, he ran...