When I was 12, I went to sea. I was on my father's ship for 6 months and 4 days when i caught a glimpse of her.
I had been sitting on a chair on the deck, watching island after island float by when my gaze started slowly moving downwards. I was almost asleep when i saw the fiery red tail splash next to the wooden paneling on the side of the ship. I jumped up, about to call for my father to see this magnificently huge fish when the creature jumped out of the water.
Attached to the red...
Ring, ring!
Ring, ring!'
"Hello, this is General Kuznetz", I stated. "Yes, I understand".
"There has been a change of plans Lieutenant. We must send in our ships".
I clenched my wrists together. The moment was here. The sound of the ships' engines filled the area. Slowly but surely they can began to move. My palms were sweating profusely and my lips compressed together like a lid on a jar. I closed my eyes together, unable to look at the scene unfolding before me. A slight but stratling tingle ran down my spine.
-The thought of having to tell you my life story for forensic reasons, is quite barbaric to me. Is there any other way you can learn what you need to know?
-No. Go ahead. We need a summary of your life in order to rule you out as part of this crime. If we don't have that chronology, we can't do that. It looks very much like you are a perpetrator but this longer timeline will give us context for the short term timeline. Go ahead.
-{Sighs} Okay. As you know, I was born In Mount Auburn, NY. I lived...
The gate closed behind them. Skidmark spun around and readied his rifle, scanned the scene and grunted to himself. He lowered the rifle slowly and turned back around. It appeared that there was no escaping the arena.
About fifty yards across from him, another contestant appeared, a tall, lithe woman in a jumpsuit, her Mohawk towering a good six inches above her scalp. From the way her eyes glowed red, Skidmark could tell that it was Annex Annie, reigning champion of Arena Combat League. In her hand was her trademark laser mace.
Skidmark cracked his neck in anticipation of a...
Mal says, "Don't think this'll pass, and I'll cool down and think the chill of my loneliness can be warmed by blanket of your love. Your love is a cold, salty bar rag."
"I waited by your side for months until you healed. No one else ever came to see you," cried Layla.
"Yeah, well, who asked you? Maybe I put myself in that coma for a moment of peace. Christ, you can't take a hint. And get that kid outta here. Wasn't mine, even in theory.
"And neither were you."
Mrs. Johnson put the Cheez Whiz in her shopping cart. There was nothing in the cart but her jar of Cheez Whiz. It sat on top of the hashmark design of the shopping cart, basking in its cheezy glory. The lid was securely fastened to the jar of Cheez Whiz but later, when someone removed it, it would pop and the jar would yield its treasure of orange cheesy paste.
Mrs. Johnson pushed her cart of Cheez Whiz through the store. People smiled at her because she was well known in her town. "I see you're buying some Cheez Whiz,"...
I have come to the conclusion that Jack suffers from a degenerative brain disorder. This may sound horrible coming from his own mother, but it's all I can think about these days. First off, he takes our only cow to the market and comes back with seeds when I specifically said we needed food. Sure, you can use the old fisherman analogy, but NOT when it involves an immediate need to fill our incredibly bare cupboards. I would have even accepted him butchering her for food. I really would have. But no, my son is a retard.
Magic beans? Really?...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. I had died probably 15 minutes ago by a raving lunatic. I know, drastic way to go right? Actually, it was quite thrilling.
So, there I was walking on Park Street when I hear this noise coming off from the left. It wasn't like anything I'd heard before. I shouldn't have done it. I'd still be alive. Those are the choices we make I guess. Anyway, I go over to see what's up and this guy jumps...
I was on my way to Times Square to buy myself some coffee at Starbucks. I rested down for a little bit at one of the tables and noticed a man outside the window asking some people for loose change. I stared at my coffee and back at the man and I went outside and walked towards the man. He had scrawny, dirty hands and he looked like he hadn't bathe in weeks. I then asked him kindly if he has hungry. He had the brightest look in his eye and that toothy grin. He gladly accepted and we both...
Tom jumped and all that remained were the boots.
Our pa made us kids wear boots many sizes too small all the time. Even in the scorching sun we'd have them on, blistering our bare feet, twisting toes out of shape, uncut nails growing under. No-one was ever allowed to remove them or there would be trouble.
Whenever I recall that image of boots on the shore I'm so envious. Tom is free. Somewhere. Maybe he swam to the other side and is now having a fantastic life. Or maybe he's dead. He would be in heaven if that was...