Gradually she made her way to the edge of the shore, looked out to sea and watched the waves as they soared and fell and smashed together in front of her. It was peaceful, despite the noise. She breathed in, grabbing as much salty air as she could each time, then let it go in a long, contented stream.
When she turned, she noticed she was no longer alone. A man had appeared, walking his dog, a black Labrador, beach. She waved, but the man ignored her. Her mood fell slightly. Rude, she thought, and there was never any need...
As the Sun rose from His slumber,
She began to stir
in her little house of wood,
a coffin just for her.
Each day,
she hears them scrape
away the earth with shovels,
waiting until
finally
her final bed is done
forever for her to lay.
In the morning,
she awakes,
dead to others
yet alive in her dreams,
to the sound of falling stones
as they cover her coffin.
And, as the final stone fell,
she said a silent prayer, asking for
sweet dreams for her to keep.
And as the earth lay there,
the mound dug in the...
Well, I'll have a go. I said, That's fantastic, you wont regret it I promise, it really helped me. I thanked Chris, I felt a bit anxious about him being so enthusiastic. I hate letting people down, including myself but I wasn't bothered about that right this minute. I left Chris to his Hot Chocolate, which was probably Luke warm by now.
In a few minutes I was out on the street, a breezy day in June. I was looking for a quiet bench to sit down and write a few bits down in my notebook. I don't know if...
The building was out of place and yet appropriate at the same time. Sarah was the only one who seemed to notice it either way. An old pagaoda-like structure in the middle of the town. Other people were nearby, but if they saw it, they didn't act like it.
After snapping a few photos with her smart phone, she approached one of the entrances. (At least she assumed it was an entrance.) She knocked on the door several times. There was no answer, but it swung open for her nonetheless. She looked around at the park, and the people in...
Some mornings, when the sun rose just right, it was almost like nothing had happened. This was one of those mornings, a bright red dawn. I climbed out of my truck, zipped up my black hoodie and stretched to the sky.
Maybe it was all a dream? Surely it hadn't actually happened. I had gotten drunk, partied too hard, fallen asleep in the truck just outside of town, and now I could head back, and home would be home, and the residents would be people I knew and not those things.
I had nearly convinced myself of this happy thought...
The rain came pouring down upon me. And as I lay there, my cheap gown leeching its red dye into the gutter, I imagined my own blood joining it and just letting myself go away. I thought about it for a long, long time. The rain intensified. The thunder seemed to be synched to my thoughts and my sudden spasms of regret and anguish and misery.
It came down to making a choice. I would either stand up and walk on, or I wouldn't. I thought about how long it would take for me to perish in this place, knowing...
It was the last day.
General Richards was tired. Very tired. He had been walking for a long time, and there was still nothing in sight. No city of glass. Not even the path of golden bricks. They were nowhere to be seen.
He sat down in the dirt, even though none of the others were sitting, even though Eliza still had the energy to dance with her nurse. Of course she had the energy; she was the one they had all been giving all their food and water to. She was only a child. She held the future in...
How did we meet? You really want that story again honey? Okay, then.
Well, it was ten years ago, your father was a student and I was visiting an old friend of mine. We were on our way out to a club to listen to this band...
No honey, I don't remember which band, because I never got to the gig. No, I don't know if they were any good... Look, do you want me to tell you this story or not?
Right, so we were walking to the bar where the band was supposed to play and to get...
He does not even see him. My goodness, quit taking pictures of me and turn around you moron. The hyena is laying low to the ground, covered by the brush, unless you look at him head on.
The hyena is inching closer to the human, who of course, is facing me. I need to get over there quickly.
My back condenses, and loads like a spring. SNAP. I am the fastest land animal. I should be able to get there in time.
I am off, and this feeling never gets old. The brush is tall, but not tall enough to...
Snip. Snip.
Pause.
Snip snip snip.
He squinted into the test tube. The stems of heather floated in the solution of sodium dodecyl sulfate, suspended, waiting.
Laughing at him.
Gene closed his eyes. No, he thought, not now. Not after all this. Not when I'm so close.
Flashback to the grimy street where he was born, eleventh child to a drunk and a slattern. When he dared say that he would grow up to be a scientist one day, oh how the neighborhood toughs had loved it. Another reason to pound him, day after day. "Gene, Gene the gene-machine, work...