"Write," she instructed.
So he did. He wrote. He wrote of many things, and when he was done, he presented the neatly bound typewritten pages to her. She didn't even look at them.
"Write more."
He wrote more. He wrote of how he felt when the sun in the afternoon cast dappled lines across the floor. He wrote about prison bars and he wrote about prison food. He wrote about her, and how her dark hair was short and clipped above her ears. He wrote about how her brown eyes pierced his soul and tore him apart and all he...
He exited the train at Buenos Aires. That was as far as his ticket would take him. He wandered around the city for a while afterwards. It wasn't much, so he boarded a flight to London. The flight stewardess was pretty, but not overly so. Her hair was perfectly tied up in a bun and her lips were pink, straight out of a Barbie Doll. He smiled at her. She smiled back. That was as much as he would allow himself.
When he got off in London, he walked to where his house had been. He stared for a while...
Running from the larva, Nick wondered if he could stop for a second, catch his breath. He carried on, the survival persona taking over, making him look ahead at the hovering helicopter, knowing his life depended on reaching it...........
This part of the dream would never go away, he'd been recording it for years, wondering what it meant. He'd never been anywhere with a volcano, or any life of death scenarios, or had any worrying health concerns that he could recall.
Every night at three am he would wake, drenched in sweat, shouting out 'wait for me' to the helicopter...
My tiny, paper-thin dream floating on the darkness of my memories. That's all I could feel, all I could see, all I could hear, day in, day out. Taunting me. Tempting me.
If only I did. If only I didn't. I could be Somebody if I weren't so frightened of being Somebody.
Trapped in this limbo is a game for no man. The future is lovely and bright. It exposes me for what I am. The past is dream and lingering. It holds onto me with every tiny hook it owns, each day adding a new one.
To be free....
I don't understand why it's so hard to lose weight. I know what I'm doing wrong but can't stop. Multi bags of potato chips, carrot cake with creamy frosting, sedentary lifestyle. I used to be such an active man, always playing some kind of sports, walking at least two hours daily as I hated driving in bad traffic to work. It's not as though I have a void to fill, like many other overweight people. I am happy.
So why on earth can't I change???
Martha, my slim wife doesn't even mind my protruding belly (or at least that's the...
"Dammit it's cold today." Bard pulled his hat further down over his forehead and huddled into his fur. "This shit just ain't worth it, Jake." The mule nudged his shoulder and tugged on the lead. He knew where warmth was, as well as his grain.
Man and beast drudged along the logging trail beneath the cold, thin light of the winter sun. Behind them clouds piled up over the horizon, snow dark and ominous. Bard could hear the wind starting, a distant rush of sound bending tree branches and pushing the storm closer.
"Two more miles and we're home," he...
We made our getaway through the window, I begged you to stay here, to feel the warmth of the house, to watch movies in the dimlit room, but you insisted that I had to "live a little". The clock struck midnight, I heard the chimes & felt the goosebumps as I climbed onto the roof. "This is absurd.. maybe we should go back.. it's freezing out!" But your smile told me differently. You spread a blanket out for us to share, and we looked up at the moon, glowing and providing light for us, along with the streetlamps. I was...
"Jesus Christ! Where am I now?"
As Martin gazed into the vast ocean in front of him, the broken teleporter still beeping in his left hand, he realized, that getting home might have just become impossible.
He tramped down an empty highway for hours, without meeting a single car, until he reached a gas station. Inside, there was no one. He went around the cash register, took out some change and dialed his brothers number from a pay phone next to the candy isle. It rang. "Come on, pick up." Nothing. He let it ring for a couple of minutes...
She was the most delicate girl in town. Or at least, that's what they all thought. With her prim private school uniform, glossy ringlet curls and polite smile, she had them all fooled. Everyone except me. Noone knew her like I did though. Sharing a bedroom gives an unprecedented view into a person's inner psyche. I'm not just talking about dirty washing left on the floor and mugs growing mould, though that's gross enough. It's not even just the boys, or increasingly lately - men, she would shimmy down the drain pipe to meet. It's not even that her straight...
The Americans landed as planned. Somewhat off course, one of them, Jon from the Bronx recognized the farmhouse. "It's Helena's" he said breathing out, relieved. "anyone got a smoke?" he said smiling and looking around quickly at his buddies.
"Are you shitting? this woman's a spy and God knows who's in there with her. Ten to one there's Germans", said the Captain snapping the Camel right out of Jon's mouth. He grinned and the Captain motioned for four of his men to advance.
In the window, Helena seemed angelic. The man at her feet was indeed very blond, the men...