He didn't even pack. He just picked up a satchel and left. He knew it'd been over for a while, but last night was when he was finally able to summon the courage to do it.
When people heard what he'd done, they'd offer their condolences. But he didn't see it as a sad thing. He saw it as a new beginning, as new horizons.
"You can't stay there all day." I glanced up at my mum who was throwing open the curtains with the wild abandon of someone who's world wasn't ending.
"Moping never did anyone any good." She flung open the window.
"Come on. ..." she reached for my duvet as if to pull it away. I wrapped my fingers tighter around the edges, pulling it closer.
She rolled her eyes and gave it a harder tug.
"Mu-uuum". I complained. My voice sounding hoarse from all the crying. It had been days since I'd spoken a word.
"A shower. That's what you need....
The waves crashed on the rocks at the point, Harold heard them, but only in that way you hear things just out of the way, like neighbours fighting or the alarm clock on bad mornings. He shook the ice in his glass and chewed the inside of his cheek. The bartender was giving him the side-eye as he dried the glasses.
A thick finger freed itself from Harold's fist, pointing up, waved towards his empty glass. The bartender, slapped the towel over his shoulder and fixed another gin and tonic.
Harold nodded and brought the drink to his lips.
He...
story by Monsterbat, typed by mom:
"Sit up, please."
She sat up, her hair gleaming, her eyes glistening. She'd gotten these for free since she had gotten the deal. Show one picture of yourself in the magazine, get one physical therapy session free. She said, "You aren't very qualified at this; are you?"
Another arm got wrenched off. "Oops, sorry."
"You know what, that's it. Even if I'm a zombie, I have some rights. And if I hadn't eaten the court, I'd take you to one." Blood started dripping from her lips.
"Why don't you make a zombie court," he...
Oh look at the house. It has snow on the roof. Santa will be mad. How is he supposed to get down the chimney if there's snow on the roof. Wait a minute. There's no chimney. Guess Santa will have to break into the house instead.
But gol, I think we should make sure all the roofs are clear of snow for Christmas Eve. I mean, them reindeer can't enjoy snow all that much.
So anyway, Santa Claus has a disease that makes his hair fall out. He kind of looks like this: O But he has a head on...
My word muscles are stiff. My writing bones ache. The prose reads like a bruise.
I burst bored air through my lips, upsetting the dust on my keyboard.
I see a tangerine, withered in the shadow of an orange, withering; dust on the hand sanitizer; a rubber band ball in a novelty stein; an orgy of paper clips; surrounded by colors, none too vivid, the only highlights are the highlighters.
The building I thought they were slowly constructing around me is being stripped as bare as a gazelle felled by a lion, shred by hyenas, cleaned by maggots.
I wasn't...
A Time to grow
And a Time to grow old
A Time to learn
And a Time to teach
A Time to receive
And a Time to give
A Time to look forward
And a Time to look back
A Time to face a new day
And a time to lay down your burdens and rest
As that new day shines on the newer life ready to meet it.
As the sun sets on one life,
It rises on another
And all is right with the world.
It was becoming night. Quickly, stealthly, Navy SEALS approached a haunting compound. Sand-surrounded, barbed-wire covered; its contents unkown, its inhabitants, suspected. This was do-or-die time. The code "Geronimo" was on everyone's minds. This desert, this foreign country, was their home for the past year. Now they had Presidential orders, "capture or kill," "wanted, dead or alive." It wasn't just read off of an old saloon poster. This was it. With intelligence officials watching, and waiting, the world went about its business, until five hours later, when everyone got word of the actions that occurred inside that haunted-looking building. A terror-leader...
Fault. It is so common a word. Used by so many to allay the suspicion that they are truly the ones responsible. And who am I? I am no different.
My leg moved as if in a dream, gliding through time and space like it was made of water, no jelly, no gravity. It moved, ever so slowly towards a destination that I couldn't help but be brought to. Call it fate, call it fault call it whatever you will but in the end that is where I ended up. One foot in the street and another on the sidewalk....
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up. What was she going to do? Who was this girl? I had been in this graduate school class with her for a month and I dodn't know her name. In fact, she rarely ever came to class in the first place. Actually, I didn;t even think the professor knew who she was. But, nevertheless, thre she was. We were talking about politics and the upcoming election. Frankly, I wasn;t really paying attention too closely. I try to stay out of those...