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...

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"Come on, Brad," she sighed. "Can't you be serious once in your life?"

"Maybe," he said. "We may not know for sure until I'm dead, though."

"This is really important," she told him. "We have to defuse this nuclear bomb before the silo doors open and Dr. Malevolence's computer virus launches it and starts World War III."

"You know, I'm not totally convinced," Brad argued. "How many viruses work perfectly when they're released? Writing viruses is hard, you know. Even evolution needs to try billions of times to get it right."

"You really want to risk the fate of the...

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When I was twelve I went to sea, aboard a small ship. They hired me to clean and sweep and feed the men, in exchange they said they would take me across the ocean to the new world.
A week or two after shipping out, a storm rose on the horizon. The wind she blew and rain she fell and waves crashed into the sides.
The captain went first, and then his crew, leaving just me and another, a drunk.
The sails were torn, and the bow was pierced, the hull became full of water. Neither of us knew how...

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"This is a little weak on the nose, and blunt in taste. To put it mildly, I wouldn't serve this wine to my guests, nor likely drink it for pleasure." Those were the only words I have ever received, in written communique, as it were, from the famous wine critic Perry Daniels. It was also my first review as a vintner. Unfortunately, besides being in the show, it was also published in the Post. A shame. And great annoyance.

Because of this man, my start in vintering is in somewhat of a decay. I am looking in to brewmaster jobs...

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. Like it had been ever since the Chinese industrial 'revolution', it was smoggy and grey. She stared off into the limited distance, trying to peer beyond all the smog.

"Where's mother?" A voice came from behind her.

"Oh, you know the answer to that, Chang'e," she replied. "Go ask dad. I'm sure that he'll say what he's always said."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You're so forgetful..." the girl mumbled.

"But you are too!" said Chang'e. "I bet you don't even remember what father said to you...

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It wasn't one of those baby swings, with a back and leg holes, safe and sturdy; it was a real swing and he had no idea how to make it move.

"Move your legs," said Daddy. "Forward and back, just like that, forward and back."

It felt like the swing was starting to move. Not much rhythm, yet. The light grey sky didn't do much to encourage, and he looked back, hoping for a push like usual.

A few minutes later and he was soaring, smile as wide as the arc the swing made from apex to apex - velcro-laced...

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For some reason, I couldn't stop staring at the picture. It was... gorgeous, sure. The colors were somewhat exaggerated, leaving me with the sick feeling you get when you eat something that's got so much sugar in it, it might as well be syrup. The writing at the top is what really got my attention. I never really understood the whole point of Christ.

I mean, here we are, a bunch of people living on this planet that God created, and we're all pieces of crap destined to go to hell because we're just that bad. And along comes Christ...

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I shot my butler. I didn't mean to, i swear. It was an out of body experience. i didn't know what i was doing until i had pulled the trigger. i mean, Jeeves had been awesome. Why on Earth had i shot my butler?? and, more importantly, how in the world had i shot my butler? I didn't even own a gun, for heavens sake! Maybe i was hallucinating. But how does that make any sense? if I hadn't shot my butler, who had?It was the only solution that made any sense. I had shot my butler. Oh my gosh,...

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"His eyes closed with a sinnister grin?" Rabbit said. "What does that even mean? His eyes were grinning? Or the grinning caused his eyes to close? I don't get it. The imagery just doesn't pop and imagery needs to pop, or at least not be this strange Cheshire cat thing."

"A what kind of cat?" Weasel said.

"Cheshire. A Cheshire cat, like in Alice in Wonderland."

"Oh, I've never seen that."

Rabbit looked at him, mouth open. "Regardless of having seen it or not, or even better, having read the book, since you are trying to be a writer, you...

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The rain pounded on his jacket and head like furious warriors attempting to break the city's gates.

His paced quickened and he tried to pay attention to the drops, now falling in droves. Relentless was the water falling from the sky, and relentless was his restless mind.

A restless mind trying to forget the words spoken to him 15 minutes ago.

They say no parent should bury their child, but no parent should have to hear, "I hate you" or "I just don't want you in my life anymore."

He was a good father, when she was younger. He saw...

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