Screw destiny.
I smashed the crystal ball against the sidewalk, jumping on it to make sure it really was destroyed. It couldn't tell me anything anyway.
I was abandoned on a doorstep as a baby by my mother, and I always knew I wasn't going to be like her. I wanted a big family that I could give all my love and attention to.
But I picked the ball up at a flea market, and while polishing it, saw a doctor's report. It said that I was infertile. I didn't want to believe it, but I've always been superstitious, so...
How tiny. That was all she could think as she held it in her hand, how tiny it was, how tiny every feature of it was, the eyes, the scaly pro to-feathers, the beak, even the little talons, how exquisitely tiny to hold such intricate detail. She could feel the small heart fluttering through the fragile body into the palm of her hand. How tiny.
It moved slightly, shifting it's head slightly to cast a dark eye up at her. It wouldn't last long. They never did, when she found them like this. She'd tried to save the first couple...
The sheep were at pasture and he tried not to disturb them as he jumped over the fence and darted across the field. He had to keep moving, if he stopped they would catch him, if they caught him they would kill him. It was a game, he was the odd one out, he'd been playing along, thought he was include but no, they'd kept him out, always kept him separate so they could use him. When the moment was right, when the moment had come, they had pounced. One had circled around him while the others continued to dance....
I held it at arm's length. Three feet long from blade to hilt it, the replica Confederate cavalry sword is beautiful. It is etched up and down the length of the blade with scrollwork and in two places with the letters CSA. My heart trembled as I held it loosely, admiring it. I couldn't believe she'd sent me this sword. It is a beautiful birthday present.
They were trapped for seven days.
And all he could think about was how stupid and incompetent everyone was. Oh, he could get them out if he wanted to. He'd figured out how in the first 10 minutes the lights went out, the tracks stopped moving, and the world stopped spinning.
But he figured he'd rest down here, in this quiet place where people were sobbing their regrets, anger, pity, sorrow, prayers to each other. Lamenting their pathetic lives as they neared their starved deaths. He could smell the piss by the corner where they'd all mutually agreed to designate...
It wasn't my fault. It couldn't have been. She was dead when I got there.
I know my fingerprints were on the gun. It was my gun, of course my fingerprints were on it. Yes, I was the last one to see her alive. But that was hours before she died. I do stand to inherit a large sum of money. I loved her. Why would I kill her over something like that?
The CCTV could easily have been doctored. Besides, you don't see the killer's face. It must be a coincidence that she and I have the same build....
Midnight on the roof of my four storey home.
It wasn’t normal for a vampire to have a phobia about heights. I‘d been stuck up there for a few days now, luckily finding some heavy tarpaulin that shielded me from sunlight during the long hours whilst I tried to think up ways to get myself down. Tried is the operative word. I felt brain dead. Didn't even have a cell phone.
As for telepathy, that's just an urban legend. I've never read anyone's thoughts, nor sensed another like me. I was so grateful for the first time in my life,...
Lost, without a hand to hold. I imagine that's how some men feel in my position. As though everything they once had, all those they once knew, has gone forever. Because they were abandoned, or because they pushed it all away, who can say.
Yet it's weird, I've felt that way for so long, for so many years, I assumed that that would be how I felt at this moment. But somehow, staring at the noose before me, I've never felt more alive, and less alone.
I am guilty. I am innocent. I am a contradiction. And it doesn't matter....
It was a brave day for navy blues men. And a sad day for pirate kind. The navy blues men had defeated the pirates at their own game, the blues. The pirates were especially bluesy that day, having been attacked by navy blues men. But the navy blues men were bluesier, there was no question about it.
"Ohhhh, we gots the blues," the navy blues man named Salut sang. "We gots more blues than yooooou!" It was stated; it was true. The pirates felt the sting of defeat. Ironically, they felt bluesier now than they had before. But it was...
He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. Making a strategic withdrawal into a tunnel, luring in the rest of the elite squadron that pursued him to pick them off two or three at a time now that they were forced into tighter quarters. He had not heard the sound of the train from far off, and figured he had the time to keep running, slash a few soldiers, put some distance between them, and repeat.
The tunnel was deceptively longer than he presumed.
He ducked beneath the spray of incoming bullets before making a horizontal slash, Rihatsu cleaving through...