Nothing is more terrifyingly beautiful than the intensity of a woman's Stare.
Not a gaze or a glace, but a Stare. One that lasts longer than a couple
seconds but no longer than a minute. The kind that cuts its way through
you, making you feel more- and at the same time, less- secure in your
strength as a man.
When I was younger, I remember all of the pressure that was placed on me to be good enough.
The training that I had to endure, to get where I am today. At the top of my game.
But I keep asking myself? "Is this really what I want? Am I'm living for myself, or for others?"
I turned the medallion in my hands as I thought of how all I wanted to do was to make them proud! My parents, and my coach.
But now that's in the past.
Now I realize that what I want, and what they...
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.
Spinning.
The tiny clockwork bird danced (for want of a better term) in a circle, twirling, singing out its jaunty song.
She sat, watching it sing out its tune, listening to the unique tinny sound of the music box - there was something about that music, that paticular brand, which brought her back to childhood. As a child she had watched the bird, watched it in her mother's palm.
Her mother had, briefly, convinced her that this was a real bird, that this was what happened to them when they were caught, tamed. That you could teach them these songs,...
"Look it's not that I don't like you, I really do. In fact, if your company was you, this deal wouldn't be an issue."
We had been discussing this for weeks, it was a deal to take in a growing company as our subsidiary. My company wanted them, as they were competition. They didn't want in, because they knew they were just that to us.
"Phil, I understand that my company has a tendency to say one thing and do another," I said to him, as he paced from his chair to the window behind it. "But we mean it,...
Gigantic. Alana stared at it, her mouth open wide. The only word to describe it was gigantic.
"I - I don't know what to say." her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
"Say 'yes'." prompted Max, his eyes wide with anticipation.
Alana stared at it, not daring to make eye contact with him. It was all such a shock and she hated suprises.
He should know that, if he knew her as much as he said he did, he would know this about her. That he didn't raised all sorts of questions.
Braving a glance at Max, she saw...
I watched as the creature - the whatever it was - floated on the soft breeze towards me. It had wings, but it didn't seem to want to use them, gliding through the air instead. As it got closer, my nerves started to act up.
I hate insects.
I hate anything with more than four legs and I'm not that keen on anything with more than two, if I'm honest about things.
I felt cheated as I watched it. The first sunny day in weeks, and I had a chance to enjoy it, sitting in the garden with a book...
They were trapped for seven days. But not seven nights? No, not seven nights. They were able to go their homes at 5 PM, but they had to report back to the avalanche at 7 AM sharp. Tim always arrived five minutes early so he could finish his coffee.
It was an unusual set-up, but one everyone could agree on. After all, who wants to be trapped for that long, and at night to boot? You'd miss all your favorite shows! Cindy couldn't miss the one about mean people trapped on an island together, which she guessed was ironic. They...
"I've got a loaded weapon and I'm not afraid to use it!" she shouted, holding the cat in her arms like an AK-47 as the snow swirled around her on the open playing field.
"You touch my snowman again and I will set the cat on you!"she snarled, walking menacingly towards the group of chav-scum teenagers who were busy kicking over her children's carefully constructed snowmen.
"Oh yeah, as if we're scared!" one of them challenged her. She just smiled, peeled back her black balaclava and revealed her badly scarred face. "He did this last month." she said simply, and...
The disco ball was turning, shattering the darkness with screaming light, the dawn silence splintered by horns, a cannon firing a thick ball of needles. The huns are at the wall, threatening the structure with bass drum. We fire back with tight snare. We are on the move, churning into time, a polyester & corduroy hypno-wheel mesmerizing the gods of youth.
"There are no gods!" shouted Robbie Pinsker and deftly crossed his heavy skates, rolling backwards to the clarion call of the Village People.
Stephanie Friedman invited the whole class to her party at the roller rink. I arrived sheepishly....