"Do you know how much you're paying to be there?"
Of course she knew, looking at her shoes. They were pretty shoes - very nice ones. She was glad she'd worn them. Something good to look at, a pattern to lose herself in as she tried to drown out the sound of her parents raging at her.
About university, this time, but really it could be anything. Insert subject here, and they would rant.
Lots of spirals on these shoes. Lots of colours, too -
Oh. They were looking at her. Expecting a response.
"Yes."
It seemed to be the...
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. So, when the topic came up, Ben was staring out the window thinking about his date tomorrow with Liz and wondering how much longer he had to sit in that room.
"Ben, could you add something here?" Lou, his coworker begged. Ben straightened himself up and focus on the men sitting around the conference table.
"Um..." He gave Lou a bewildered look.
"About the B-12A's." Lou helped him out, "About the specifics."
"Oh, yeah, of course." Ben stood up and approached the schematic on the overhead, "As you see it's a small...
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.
Bombs were the last thing on his mind.
Everyone was hiding under desks, wary of the slightest sound whereas he was wondering how soon before people registered the change in him.
They might be in shock and forget. But what if they didn't? Would he have to convince the survivors they were hallucinating?
Crouching in under the lower shelve in the store cupboard Jack could feel his ears growing and wings strain against his shirt. It wouldn't be long before his faerie body would be a giveaway, hopefully the others would have been rescued by then and he could stay...
everything flows
Time lay scattered everywhere. In the depths of the forest he could hear the 1700s exploring; somewhere to his left there were the ancient druids.
everything is meant to flow
The watches had stopped. All of them. Then again, everything was happening all at once, and there is only so much that clockwork can stand. Mechanisms are man-made and they can be broken, just as man can.
time is meant to flow
He was aware that this couldn't last - not that there was really a concept of lasting now (not a meaningful one, anyway). The universe would...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. Or so they think. "He" had used a little one passenger plane to conquer the walls of the seemingly unescapeable abyss. All i would have needed was a match and a stick of dynamite, but he had to do it the fancy way. Jonathan Ocre had been a simple farmer's son, making his living off caring for the neighbor's cattle. He'd jumped into the valley to see what was at the bottom, and most thought he was a goner. But he defied expectations and one day just burst out of the...
The pistol was cocked... Ready to go. I didn't know what to do...
Should I shoot? Should I run? It was a question which required some thought. But I had no time to think.
I needed to think back to my college philosophy classes. Fight or flight. Talk or smoke.
So... I reached into my pocket slowly, all the while showing my pistol...
"Just let me show you my credentials"
hen I dropped my pistol. Then I ran.
Millions of people left the coasts and ran into the dry middle of the country. The plains and prairies were filled with tents and lean-tos. Smoke rose from fire pits as the tall grass and grain bent in the strong winds.
The coasts flooded. The storm crashed and smashed the cities that had harbours.
But the people in the dry middle of the country were safe.
Safe for now.
The country was flooded. People said they only had half the land they used to.
And even then, it was the dry, grassy rolling hills in the middle. The people used...
Half a life lived
within four walls
the once unthinkable
now familiar
with endless routine
a strange comfort
a life reset every day to run
the same sweep of hours
One small act
stealing from my future
thinking to be happy
now...then
realizing too late
the mistake
giving hostages
to my good behavior
Moments of quiet
hours of noise
time in the yard
never solitary
taking comfort
in the dark
giving in
the dark
Twenty years
one more small act
now here I am
standing
outside those walls
a life lived as half a whole
now to be lived
an...
" what do you want, more than anything int he world?" The woman asked me.
"I want my daughter back" I said.
She did not ask where she was or what had happened to her. She did not ask how old she was, or what her name was. She just nodded, opened her hand, and blew a handful of glitter over me. Glitter in my coffee, glitter in my hair.
I was suddenly angry. Stupid crazy woman. She didn't know me. She didn't know Cindy. She had no idea that my little girl was locked in a coma so deep...