Isolated figure on the shore. That's what I first saw when we landed on this planet.
The grey world spoke to me of desolation but I knew this was just the difference between Earth and it's brilliant wonder of nature with different hues and Velna our new home.
It took a long time to adjust to the constant blandness and we were given medication and daily visual meditation in the form of implants.
Now, six years later I still long to see the verdant green of the Welsh valley and the sparkling turquoise of the Mediterranean waters.
I regret taking...
"So, did your dog eat your homework?"
"No... You won't believe me so it doesn't matter anyway."
"You always have had a vivid imagination. Which I take pains to appreciate. Go ahead. Why weren't you able to prepare for the test?"
"I had been studying for thirty minutes - which is why I aced the radicands portion - when all the sudden there was a rumbling groaning sound from next door. I couldn't focus. I looked outside my window and across the alleyway was a huge green bass flopping about screaming."
"Uh?"
She cradled the faun's head and he went to sleep.
I had read the final line of the bedtime story about a thousand times, well that is what it felt like and each time Suzie reacted as though it was the first. It made me wonder about the magic words from the authors of these kinds of stories. Did they have any idea just how powerful they were? To instill such feelings in the children listening they could hear the same story over and over yet always hear something else?
Often when my eyes were too tired to read, I...
"Wait, so he hit you?" "Yep." "Right in the nuts?" "Right in the nuts." "But, why?" "Well, you see...
When I entered that store, I had only one thing in mind: beer. I went straight to the aisle, grabbed a six pack of the usual, took off to the counter, handed it over to the nice cashier, and payed. But before I got to the door, the cashier called me back. She said, that that old man behind me in line told her, that I stole that six pack from him. I went over to talk to him, but before...
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My sister signed me up for yoga the day before yesterday. And all I could think about were the yoga girl's toenails. She was the participant in front of me, on a pink mat patterned with yellow flowers. Sitting in the most uncomfortable position of my life, it was her toenails that bothered me. Sitting 10 inches in front of my face, yellowed and cracked, with an attempted cover up of aquamarine polish. "Excuse me, " I wanted to say, "That toenail polish does nothing for you." Or perhaps, "Excuse me, could you help me get my elbow out of...
Sal was in love.
A part of her felt that she'd always been in love, and almost each time with a different man. But this time she knew it was real. For this man, she'd been in love with twice.
Sal had first met Harold two years ago, when he was about to be hit by a falling piano. That was when she'd known it was love most true, love most divine.
If Sal possessed anything close to an introspective nature, she may have realised that each and every time she fell in love, it was with someone on the...
"It was just like all the others.
"Fear. Defense. Anonymity.
"Just enough of the subject's face had been blurred so we couldn't discern their identity. Another one of the Foundation's pieces of work, no doubt.
"It was just too much. Too many people had turned in photos like this. The same damn camera, and the same damn style. Always in the middle of nowhere, with one person fearing for their life, as if the camera itself were the entity attacking.
"There were other varying problems with this one, that the other pictures did not display. This subject's head was turned...
He put on his green scarf and walked out the door. Damn door. Never closed properly.
The sun was peaking behind some clouds. Damn clouds. It was probably going to rain.
He winced as he felt the warm sun on his face. It had been months since he'd seen the sun, months.
Damn sun. Probably give him skin cancer, at best, a tan.
The woman at the window was dead. I knew because it was my sister. She appeared whenever we left the house. We no longer looked around up at the top floor to see the dark shape behind the thin lace curtain. We had seen her too many times before, her wretched, contorted face imprinted on our minds.
Martha died in a house fire seven years ago. Accident after she left a burning candle on her bedside cabinet overnight. It tipped over as her blankets were thrown back during a nightmare. Dad couldn't reach her in time as the room had...