As he said it he turned his back to the others and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Come on! said Tim, you have to come with us or else we´ll lose the bet. Hep turned back to face his friends and took a deep breath. Ok, just this once and only for 5 minutes. The 4 boys turned to face the imposing old house that lay in front of them. Dormant for years, they had all heard the terrible rumours of what had happened there many years previously, when the Kellys had lived there. Jed went first....
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 day after tomorrow, this will all be over. He stood, still in body if not in mind. The wind that brushed past him seemed to pause, as if considering this new obstacle, before gathering the leaves that hunched against the curb and whirling them off in a wild reel. With his head tilted as if listening to a far-off conversation, he tried to pin down the source of his unease. Raising a hand in the dim twilight, he ignored the fine tremor that shook it and re-settled the case strapped across his back. Nerves, then, and nothing to do...
The words hit me like a ton of bricks, cutting into my chest like knives as I remind myself to breath. I feel myself take a step backward. I couldn't be in more pain right now if he'd struck me. He stops talking to me and just stands there in front of me. I can't believe that he... I look up at him but I can't see anything through my tears anyway. Judging by the look in his eyes, I could think that he feels sorry for hurting me. He never wanted to say that. The knives of pain that...
The blue sun gave off a cold light. The snow seemed to boil under its glare while the trees darkened at their core and whitened at their tips. In the distance I saw a small stall and it gave me pause. I looked over to my partner and he looked back at me, mirroring my confusion. As we drew closer I was convinced that hunger hallucinations had taken complete control. Nothing made sense but this stall made the least sense of all.
But at the first taste of that sweet aching cold I knew that this was real. Out in...
The pistol was cocked, ready to go. Its bags were packed, you might say. Its shoes were on, and it was at Grandma's. Its teeth were brushed, its coat on and backpack packed. With bullets.
"Reach for the sky!" Criminal Pete shouted, holding the pistol from the previous paragraph at the unsuspecting victims.
"Okay, okay," the unsuspecting victims all said in unison. They all reached for the sky at the exact same time. They were synchronized mug victims. It was a living!
"Stop that, it's creepy, like dolls or clowns," Criminal Pete said. It was a bit creepy, but less...
Elsie, her name was Elsie. She was a big lass. Big arms. 'Big boned' my mum had called her, 'a rough sort', she'd said, 'stay away from her, she's trouble', she'd said. But I never listened to my mum.
I decided from the word go that I wanted to be in Elsie's gang. When I crept up to her side and said
'lo Else, can I be in your gang then?' she'd blown a big bubblegum bubble which popped right in front of my face and sneered
'you'll have to go through 'tha 'nititation beanpole'
Beanpole. I already had a...
They weren't Norwegian, they were Swedish. We bombed all hell out of them anyway.
That was ash, not smoke. Ash moves slower than smoke. Ash langours. Yes, that might have been soot, but it could have been bone.
In the mess at breakfast, we could heard a chirping through the settling din.
That wasn't a bird.
It should have been romantic, this sunset beach stroll. His back was to her as he stood, ankle-deep in the surf. Beyond him the pelicans flew low over the water as the sun set. But he collected shells along the beach like they were nuggets of gold. She had watched him study the circles of leftover life all day, the top of his head getting sunburned at noon.
She wore a wide-brimmed hat, even now, even as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. The hat was as practical now as the diaphragm she had tucked away in her suitcase, still...
Life Drawing
Staring up at me from behind the glass, a mouth that never seems to quite close and two bulbous eyes. They follow my finger as it traces lines up and down the screen, creating bubbles in its wake. My friend, golden scales and graceful fins, swims in his electronic cage, making loops and pinwheeling along with the actions of my moving digit. He doesn't seem to know his home, the aqua-blue paradise of his existence filled with fiery coral, sunken ships, and bright shining trinkets is only a dream - one that is not even his own.