"And now, a nice, juicy twist. That's it. Keep twisting. One final push! Aaaaand release. Other side, now. Raise your left hand in the air, look toward the ceiling. Now twist!"
Sweat dripping from my brow down to my neck down to my collar bone down to my underwear. Release. Downward dog.
"Chataranga! Keep going guys, you're doing great!"
Heaviness of covers, you tuck me in as you leave. I don't stir, I don't breathe. Your receding back.
"Now breathe in, and let it go."
There were mountains. There were hours to drive. Everything I measure, I measure it like...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. Ever since then, Luke had been a hero, from New York to San Francisco to everywhere in between, he was known for conquering the seemingly impossible laws of physics and flying from the valley. But he didn't reverie in his fame. Instead, he settled down in Castor, Arizona, keeping a simple life tending to sheep and cattle for the local farmers. Ince in a while, a television crew would show up and he would dissapear for a while; no one knew where he went. Except for me. I knew exactly where...
"This is the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in", Bradley thought. No wife, no kids pecking away at 6am, no job to drudge off to. "I can get up whenever I want."
Living off the street was a lot easier for Bradley than he'd expected it to be. You can make $20/hour simply begging on the subway. When everyone gets out of work it's prime time, everyone's happy to be done with the day so they'll toss you their spare change they made from the day. He remembered how uncomfortable loose change can be in the pocket of a...
then the cold
A wet cold that moves through you that clings to your insides
A cold that whispers soft and true
_You will never be warm
Smile and huddle and see that here too in this fog, this unrelenting mist that covers everything
Here too is warmth, here too is a God
Twist. Turn. Dip. Sweep. All at once, the winds around the ship changed, shifting from a violent storm to a soft breeze. The black plumage of his Tengu Fan remained stock straight, even with the skilled hand moving it with jarring grace to manipulate the winds around them. They crew had all seen the man at work at least once before, but always it was a sight of awe. Not many on the high seas could willingly sail through a tempest and come out of it completely unscathed.
After the tribulation had passed, and the skies parted above into clear...
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...
That is one big rock. Or a whole buttload of really, really small rocks. If you jumped from the top of that rock, and I mean off of it, not just up and down in one place or like a little kangaroo or something, but really just ran and jumped from the top of that rock and into the air and then aimed yourself toward the edge and launched yourself off of the rock and began to plummet toward the ground way, way, way far below the rock, then you'd be falling a long time, like even longer than this...
The gate closed behind them. The door opened in front of them. The ceiling opened above them. The floor opened beneath them. They all fell for what felt like hours, and when they landed, it wasn't with a concussive thump, but a soft, gentle bounce. They had landed in a huge pile of foam and packing material.
They took a moment to get their bearings. They were at least twenty feel below where they originally stood. They were trapped in a rectangular hole approximately ten by six feet. They didn't find any doors or openings.
They began to panic. They...
The Potentate surveyed his creamsicle tower coolly.
Lord Howard stood behind him, rigid, hands neatly behind his back, and cleared his throat. Loudly.
The monarch continued to regard the sweet monstrosity before him.
Finally, Lord Howard stepped forward and addressed his sovereign ruler. "Sire," he said, polite and yet as frigid as the ice-cream on the table. "The people in your kingdom have barely enough to eat, let alone food to play with." His eyes darted to the large dairy-based castle slowly melting onto the linen tablecloth. "If you aren't going to eat your dessert, you shouldn't have taken it."...
The clocks and the teddy bears I could understand, but the fruit really threw me for a loop. If you'll pardon the... well, actually, don't worry about the pardon. The time for pardons has passed. Yes?
I would have thought there'd been more books, but I guess I should be thankful there was one at all. One book, two shoes. That's a bit mortifying, really, but it's only fair. One couldn't get very far with just one shoe. I mean, I couldn't. Then again, I never got very far with just one book.
And seeing Her again after all this...