Circus time and the big top was humming with activity. Punters were arriving and children were shrieking for ice cream. The trapeze artists were warming up and I was standing holding one of the rope ladders steady as the Frazelli Family (Fantastical Flyers) were assuming their positions on the high wire.
Suddenly, there was a shriek from Bobobono, one of our clowns (not a very funny one if you ask me, but then I have never liked clowns).
"A child has fallen in the river."
At the bottom of the muddy field where we were camped, there ran a river....
Down six steps and under the fire escape.
Don't knock on the door, follow the hall to the end.
Go through the curtain and around the corner.
Follow the music.
Yes, just there, through that door.
Don't speak. Find a seat, even if it's on the floor.
Yes her voice is real, though you expect wings to sprout from her back at any time.
Put down your phone. This isn't for the masses. Did they make the pilgrimage? Did they risk the dank, dangerous streets?
They don't deserve to hear it. The phone won't capture it anyways.
Just sit. Listen....
he ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. He couldn't believe what had happened. Today had started off so well, everything going to plan.
He had woken early, before his alarm, excited as a kid at Christmas. He'd gone to work, where he had tried in vain to concentrate on his work.
Every second had seemed like an hour, but finally 5pm had come.
He had sat across from her at the restaurant, his heart in his mouth. She had looked lovely; more beautiful than she had ever looked. Her golden hair shimmering in the...
A Sad State of Affairs
It is three o’clock in the afternoon and she has kept the same position since breakfast, writing in her journal, nursing each fresh drink, drawing it out so that her budget (small) will see her through until she is forced to give up her seat. She is in no hurry to leave, having nowhere else to go, no pressing appointment – except with home, and the house is depressingly quiet and yet still too full, inhabited by a long line of hours waiting impatiently to be filled, the space between now and then too vast...
When I was 12, I went to sea. It was a hard life, scurrying around on the ship, hiding from the sailors. I was a stowaway, you see. I wanted to see what it was like. My dad was the ship's cook. He knew I was on board. He was risking everything by not reporting me.
We used to play hide and seek, late at night. My favourite spot was in the engine room, on top of the engine itself. It was bloody dangerous up there. I won every time I went there, because my dad never wanted to climb...
He grimaced as the flash went off, realizing too late that the final extant image of himself would so clearly portray the unease he was feeling at that moment. All well, he thought -- better that way.
On the one-off cedar deck table he had placed his remaining possessions. The cool glass beneath had the strange optical effect of making them seem blurred, though he knew his exhaustion was catching up with him.
"Ok, what do we do now?" he said to himself. Another sign, he chuckled, that things were going terribly.
He grabbed his smart phone first, and, unsurprised...
Green cover holds me. Oak Tree stands guard behind me. Sun warms me. Stream sings me to sleep. Sleep meets with Dream and carries me into the depths of Imagination where everything is what nothing ever was or will be.
He exited the train at Buenos Aires. Took numerous buses, cabs, water planes and a thirty mile trek through the jungle before he arrived at his final destination. The land that time forgot.
Samuel Cartwright had grown up with legends about this place, dinosaurs, treasure, extraordinary people. How much of it was true he had no idea, but he was determined to find out.
As a child Samuel had been blessed with a very high IQ insatiable curiousity and parents that indulged his whims, no matter how unpractical. They encouraged this quest and helped with finances convinced their son would...
They called it co-dependent. They labelled it, the need to go from one relationship to another, to never be alone - they labelled it like it was bad. Like it wasn't what everyone did.
Alright, maybe - just maybe - she took it too far, maybe she was a little too reliant on whoever's hand was (by rights) hers at that moment. Maybe it wasn't what they had decided was healthy, but their healthy? They could keep their healthy.
Their healthy was not her healthy, and it wasn't what she wanted. They decided all of these things, using test after...
The disco ball was turning.
The Mighty Fwarriors turned in shock. Their ambush on the Gold Chain Club had been going well - too well. Now they watched, as the disco ball slowly turned...into Disco Bull.
"Curses!" shouted Melissa, leader of the Fwarriors. She'd hoped that just once, just this one time, they could have a successful ambush, but she knew that it was probably too much to ask for.
Superheroes, supervillains - these are normally pretty clear cut terms. One group fight on the side of good, the other on the side of "evil". But in the real world,...