Jane was a beautiful young woman. Her blonde hair was the envy of everyone in the land. No one else had hair like that. Many said it was the color of straw. Now her father, he was also a nice man. Very beloved by everyone and the leader of this village. He, however was dying. Jane was his only child and not ready to take on the duties that would be given to her if he died. She had been walking through the meadow one day when it struck her. She could get the elixer of Eternal Life and give...
The oil had come months ago now. They had thought it would disappear. It had always done so before.
But it had remained. It had refused to go. It had clung to them, like a desperate duckling clinging to a mother, only this duckling was parasite.
It had tainted them.
There was no escaping it. None whatsoever. They had tried it all, but it followed them. They wore it like a winter coat they had no reason for. It was summer now.
So he had set out, away. That had been his goal at first, but later when he saw...
Until now she'd never thought of herself as pretty. The unique medication, DNA time capsule designed especially allowed her to change the life path to the days before the car accident with Tom, her fiancee. It allowed her to view herself in the mirror and see the luscious lips, high cheek bones, startling blue eyes and finally believe she was attractive.
Back in her youth, every pimple, blackhead, red nose was agony. Comparisons to tv stars the norm.
She hoped there wouldn't be any side effects as she crossed the road on the way to buy a new dress forgetting...
As the walked along a long fenced pathway, she told Martin, that she was bringing him to a refugee camp, and that she couldn't tell him what time it is, because no one knows. She handed him a pair of binoculars. "Take these." Martin took the binoculars and she pointed her finger into the snowy distance. Can you make out that small shed out there?" Martin looked around in the distance, but could eventually see the shed she was talking about. "I do." "Listen, Martin, I need you to trust me now. You need to climb that fence, and run...
The girl looked up at her mother and said, "We're small."
It was sudden--so sudden that the mother looked down at her child in surprise. But then she nodded solemnly. "Yes. Yes, we are."
"Why are we small?" the girl wondered, glancing at the many people in the room. Some, with a friend or a mate or someone, and some with an empty chair beside them. Her mother sat down in one of the tables, looking longingly at the other chair, which was empty.
"Because there's a lot of people. We're a small part of everyone. And you're the smallest."...
Im packing my bag, ready to go. Im walking to the station. Waiting for the bus.
Dear driver, surprise me where we gonna go. Take me away from here. I'm ready for new place, where I can find new life. I left my bag at station with my old memories.
I'm ready to go.
A crappy painting of a girl in headphones standing on the crest of a mountain, surrounded by butterflies. This is what passes for art these days? Seriously, thought Darren, I've seen better finger paintings.
As he made his way from picture to picture, Darren realized that art wasn't really his thing. Eventually, he made his way back to the entrance of the labyrinthine museum and stepped back out into the practical, utilitarian world of the city in which he lived.
Still thinking about the butterfly painting, Darren wandered through the streets of the bustling, monochrome city, occasionally bumping elbows with...
"Death to the tyrant!" Lorenzo shouted.
Within the crowd, there were many responses. Each one said the same words, "Death to the tyrant", but each man enunciated the words differently. In each utterance you could hear the word being ejected with their personal reasons.
Tremain, in his worldview, saw the king as symbol of the working class oppression that had haunted him his whole life. Why should his money support some overfeed pompous ass who hadn't worked a day in his life? The king does not decide the laws anymore, that is the parliament's job.
Lorenzo, in his wisdom, saw...
Meteorites struck a Russian town today. I wondered what I'd be thinking if they hit the place I live. Probably not worrying about my hair as I am today. Nor whether to meet up with the unsuitable man that I know I shouldn't ever see again. Nor would I procrastinate yet again over finishing paperwork and chores. None of that would matter. Only survival. Family. Are they ok? None of the mindless timewasting unimportant trivia we are all obsessed with would even cross our minds in that situation.
It reminds me of the time I was stuck underground in an...
It always did this. Time after time and time after time. Well, it was time. That was problem really. Dr Karz Flembold took his hand out of his pocket and poked it out of the temporal bubble; he saw a second immediately tick past on the clock face of his Casio.
He whipped his hand back in, feeling the sting of the present like a burn on the skin of his fingers. The watch immediately froze again. 15:04:21. It always was. But yet, he knew, time was still there. He had seen the world around him crumble and fall away,...