Scales glistening in the sunlight, Todd swung a cache of fish from his hand as he walked up the wharf. Their scales, blue, green, and brilliant white, shone silvery in the harsh artificial lights he passed under.
All dead. He'd caught practically an entire school that his wife would get to scale and fillet that night. They were all so identical... Like a family of all twins, like they were toys. He looked down at them and decided, as their brilliance nearly blinded against the dark, dull surroundings of concrete and discarded fishing items, that the sea was a different...
That is what went trough my mind as I plunged into the Everglades' muddy waters. My boat just overturned. I knew there were alligators there by the dozen. That was the reason I rented that fricking boat. Now all I could do was trying to get out of there pronto!
Pushing my to the ground as I reached the bottom. I made it to the rop.
There it was! the boat did a roundabout and hit me in the face.
I woke up later at the hospital. Wounded but alive! I made it this time too. I was a war...
"Skipper! Where are you, dammit?"
Op.8. Op.8.
"Wretched dog! You've only got so much time!"
Locate Rory. Locate. Locating. Locating.
"Where are you?" Another voice chimes in. "I want my paper. It's early in the morning. They told us you were an obedient creature."
Rory found, chasing butterflies on the south lawn. Come closer. Closer.
The little girl shouts, "Skipp-er! Skipp-er!"
Skipper barks, and Rory calls back. Safety is across the bridge, across the broken-windowed fairy house and shattered pond, but the voices are coming and Skipper has no idea how to stop them.
"I want my newspaper! Come over...
drifting from the sky,
beams of light interrupted by their silent descent,
the tree sways,
growing slightly lighter as it's precious blossoms drift to the ground,
fragments of the past,
drifting silently,
making way for the future.
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.
Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?
Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.
"This, class, is an example of a cemetery. Does anyone know what a cemetery was?"
"A cemetery was a place where bodies were buried up until the last century when death was eradicated."
"Yes. That is correct. It is quite sad, isn't it?"
The conversation lasted two words: Why now? The blank stare that met Angela's question was all the answer she needed. The time didn't matter, it never mattered. All that he was concerned about now was getting to the engine room.
Without looking back, she spun swiftly on her heel and stormed across the deck to the lift, already standing open, waiting for her. This was the day they had been waiting for, and she would be damned if she would allow something so trivial as a fleeting moment of emotion overcome her and destroy all that she had trained for....
The ceremony was fine, stuffy and long but fine. The party had been alright, except that her father had booked a stuffy classical six piece when they really wanted to get a soul band.
But the father-in-law was paying so you could only say so much, and she never ever stood up to him anyway. So he had to spend five hours in a restrictive tuxedo, stealing glances at her as she danced with her father, with the best man, nodding and smiling as old ladies pulled at his arms so they could kiss his cheeks and congratulate him, telling...
"One scoop chocolate, one scoop..." the girl giggled as she plopped the ice cream into the bowl. "Two scoops chocolate, two scoops." Again, she filled the bowl. She grabbed the bowl and her spoon and weaved drunkenly toward the couch, flopping down on it with sigh. Grabbing the clicker, she turned on her movie - Breakfast at Tiffany's - and began to dive into the dessert.
"What's wrong babygirl?" Clara looked up to see her Dad walk into the room. She continued eating, ignoring him as he sat down beside her. "Come on, you can tell your old man."
"Nope,"...
Shots were fired all around town. Poor innocent lives we're taken in a matter of seconds. They were taking over... everything. I had no idea if time permitted our family to move away before we lost our lives. Every night was a nightmare to hear about family friends getting captured and killed. My father tried his best to hide my sisters and I behind the dresser when we heard the soldiers coming closer. Behind the dresser was a hole in the cement wall which was big enough to fit us 3 kids. My mother looked at us everyday as if...