"I hate him. He could get hit by a car randomly in the street, and it wouldn't matter to me. It would probably make my days better."
Anyway, it happened. It would. And so then the whole school was plunged into mourning of varying depths. Mourning of the grievous type, and mourning of the more celebratory kind.
Let's be honest. He made everyone's life miserable. He never bothered to even sit. His room was the hallway, not a desk.
The administrator who suspended him that day couldn't stop questioning himself: could I have done more? Should I have done it?...
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...
I stand here alone on the grey, stone foundation of a tiny island. Save a few patches of dark green moss clinging to the rock face, I am the only living thing here.
The waves crash against the rocks, rocks that have withstood their attacks for thousands of years. And then there is me, struggling to keep my footing. As I am battered by wind and ocean spray, I slowly make my way towards the only landmark within sight. A light house. Not an old abandoned one, but a pristine strong one.
It's all there is. A small shelter from...
"That's it. You've gone and gotten us lost!"
"Now, I haven't done any such thing. I simply need to reorient myself." He adjusted his thick spectacles and scanned the wide expanse of the coast before him.
"We've been wandering around this city for three hours and haven't seen another living soul. Now, that'd be what I'd call lost, huh?" The second man slung one hand into his pockets and took a long drag on a cigarette with the other. He exhaled a stream of smoke, in his anger reminding the glasses man of a fire breathing dragon. He relaxed a...
If money was the root of all evil, then wine must surely be a close second.
Jasper gazed through the rosy depths of the wine glass in his hand, observing the scene beyond with quiet detachment. Wine had always mellowed him, left him with a feeling a pleasurable distance from his surroundings, as though nothing that happened would effect him at all. He remembered his girlfriend's anger at his apparent coldness when she informed him of her condition, the way she had yelled and screamed and beat her fists against him as he silently took in her news, analysed the...
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.
Highrises.
This was the life. High up in the skies, towering above the poor commuters who have to walk the streets. I stood on the balcony, the speeders whizzing past. The sun was rising, spraying its rays over the metal surface of the building.
I showered. The sonic waves power washed all the dirt off of my skin. Five minutes later, I was fully dressed and ready for work. I headed back to the balcony, and stepped off onto my speeder.
It only took a minute to get to work. I waved at the scanner at the front door. It...
Goodnight said the face jutting out of the wall. She reached up to touch it but it moulded itself back into the brick. The swirls on the carpet spun into ethereal balls of light and their laughter tinkled like wind chimes. Only there was no wind in this solemn place where the moon came and went and the stars burned black.
Her hair stuck fast to her sticky, hot brow and she knew that she was lost in this 'other' world. There was no fear just a calm acceptance as the life she had barely begun to live drained out...
"Mallard duck," she said, just before she placed the binoculars back down on the car hood. "No doubt about it."
This was the third time she had drug my out to this place to observe ducks. Or, in her words, to "administer some duck justice."
"Do we really need to be here this early in the morning," I asked. "I didn't sleep very well."
"This is when they're most active," she told me. "This is when they feed most, and that's when they pick on him."
"Him" was a duck with, so she said, a clipped wing of some sort....
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. He tells me things. He tells me to do things. Sometimes, he tells me other people are lying. He tells me not to tell anyone he's there. And I listen, because he's scary. But I think they're starting to figure out.
They see my eyes dart his way when he speaks. They see my confusion when I try to separate the voices. They see my hesitation when he tells me they're wrong. I think they're starting to figure it out, and I can't let that happen. He told me I can't....