Hero at Midnight
No one could remember who among them gave him the name Rooster; probably someone long gone by this point. A seventy percent casualty rate will leave one gaping hole in the communal memory. Everyone could remember why: yodeling and ukelele music in the pre-dawn hours was inexcusable by any measure. It had started after the battle for Hill 487. Most of Rooster's squad had been blown into pieces too small to put back together. Hence the coping mechanism. However, after two weeks of this crap, enough was enough, and Private Morlane drew the short stick: shut him...
Hypnotised. It was one of those moments I'd never forget because I inflicted it all on myself.
Thought it would be an interesting experiment to see what would happen, never imagining that I'd be lying on the forest floor so many hours, luckily it wasn't days! Paramedics couldn't help, hospital doctors baffled until finally someone realised what was going on and called in a professional to snap me out of it.
What was even worse, I couldn't remember a damn thing afterwards. What place my mind had travelled to. All I recall was that I had wanted to try out...
The year was 1986. September the 27th to be exact. I lay on a hospital bed spewing into a cardboard bucket whilst the midwives clucked around the bed. I knew what they were thinking. I knew they were judging. My belly moved up and down like a giant rock and fear gripped me harder than any contraction could. How did I get here? This wasn't supposed to happen. I'd had plans to leave home but not like this. University, air stewardess...anything but this. My new husband held my hand tightly as I pushed the boy into the world. He was...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.
Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?
Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.
To keep her kids from starving, Mama mouse bravely went into the large house. The mouse hole they lived in was just fine, but the owner of the large house, well he was a villain in their eyes.
Mama mouse looked left and right before scurrying under the kitchen cabinet. She couldn't let anyone see her or else who would take care of her darling children? She peeked out from under the cabinet. Good, no one was coming. She cautiously walked out and looked up. There it was. Her goal. Upon the table sat a beautiful roast turkey. She was...
It's easiest to appreciate simple beauty when you are surrounded by desolation.
Peace had finally settled over the dusty streets, and the small unit of American soldiers let their guns droop, looking up the hill at the kids who had cautiously come out of hiding to wander the streets once more, seeking their friends just as the soldiers reunited with their brothers in arms under a leafy tree. One adorned with freshly bloomed pink flowers.
A soldier smiled as he looked at the plants. Long gone was the time where it had been considered unmanly to like flowers. Pretty pink...
"She was the most delicate girl in town,"
I put down my glass.
"Delicate?"
"You know, delicate" and he moved his hands as if to express the shape "Like a flower is or a painting. She had a softness. And it was hot down there all year pretty much so she was like all the other girls and wore the cotton dresses but she wore them differently. Just by herself, you know, I mean she wasn't trying."
"So you mean she was pretty."
"I mean delicate."
"And you never worked it out with her? This very...delicate girl?"
"Well I got...
She leaned over the side of the ship, hair streaming in the cold, northerly wind. They'd been at sea for six days now, with three still ahead before they made land at Isenguard.
The heist couldn't have gone more smoothly. The Jaguar Pearls were stowed safely back in her cabin, the security tapes had been wiped and Mark had obliterated every trace of their DNA from the scene.
Mark. Where was he?
She turned to lean against the rail, squinting at the recreation deck in the dazzling, tropical sunlight. He was probably up there right now, all toned and bronzed...
I jumped on the bandwagon. Everyone else was going down, and I mean, I thought I knew the basis of the movement, so of course that's what matters, right? So I went downtown. There were all these people there. All this passion. But I slowly realized that I was just there because it was fun. There were a bunch of other kids, my age, maybe older, sort of just there to have a good time, to try and get a rise out of some people. Like people without clothes on, or like doing drugs in the street, really weird stuff...
The dangers of air surfing had yet to be explored. Jenna had never been shy when it came to taking risks, yet now she found herself in the embarrassing position, almost literally, of talking out her ass.
"Can you help me down, please?"
"What happened to 'I'll be a living legend?'" quipped her boyfriend, Bob. "I mean, I've got to say I'm enjoying the view."
Dangling, upside down, as the tide came in, did little to improve Jenna's temper. "Just pull me down; will you?"
"Just as soon as I finish filming. My followers on YouTube are gonna LOVE this!"...