It was a random trip, picked quite literally with a dart to a map. Jon would be going to Kenya. He'd never been outside America before, and he figured selecting places at random would be the best way to start. After all, why go through all the fuss and research when you could just let a mix of fate and chance make the decisions for you?
He packed his bag, being careful to take only one piece of luggage. One of those roll-away things that were still allowed in the overhead compartments. The previous months had been a roller coaster,...
He could remember the first time he saw that statue. It was one of those things you simply never forgot, like a first kiss. He remembered the first time he saw that statue, smiling majestically down at him from its pedestal, Lady Liberty welcoming him to the country, letting his heart swell up with a strange, newfound pride. He supposed it was the moment he'd become American, even before the papers had been stamped and Ellis Island had given him and his father the okay. It was certainly the first moment he'd felt American.
He'd gripped the banister of the...
The bird sat on the branch, looking at the moon. There was a whole bunch of cloud closing in on the bird. "Cah," the bird said, because he was a crow.
The bird flew away and started flying around. It got bored from flying, so it perched on an airplane. Problem is the plane was operating and birdie flies into the engine. Swish! Crunch! Feathers everywhere! Blood everywhere!
I was sittin on the roof of my car. Saw the whole darn thing through my binoculars. It did not make me happy. So I pick up my phone and call Aunt...
"Everyone is a sun," he insisted, but no one was arguing.
"Every dog has his drug," he affirmed, and they all agreed.
"He's an unusual kid," I decided, and they all agreed.
"Everyone is a sun," he repeated, adding, "but not you," and he pointed his peanut butter fist at me.
The sky was hazy and blue, like the sun in a balloon, and the road was cold and icy.
I uncoiled my hand-knit scarf and decided to wait for the moon.
An unknown figure watched Mery and Arthur McGee as they shopped in main square. Mery, hair tied back, long coat wrapped around her to fight the cold, a scarf tucked around her neck, approached the front store window and glanced in awe at the woman behind the glass. Her hair coiled around her face in romantic ringlets, and her long black dress oozed with classic beauty.
"Arthur, isn't this dress marvelous? Look at the color, and the sweeping length. I must have it, Arthur. I must." Mery said in delight.
Arthurt, her husband, was less than enthused. "Dear, it's...
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...
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...
Time was running short, and John still had no idea where Adam had stashed it. I mean, thought John, how many places are there to hide a pelican in a Des Moines nightclub? There was no use trying to listen for it, with the mind-numbing beat of some kind of Euro-techno-disco-30's remix whatever the hell it was kicking the living shit out of his eardrums. All he knew was that if he didn't get to that pelican soon, eighteen future suicide bombers would have easy access to any entry point in the Pentagon, and it would all be his damn...
It was a pleasure to burn.
All things, it was.
Paper. Incense. Even skin.
Yes, especially skin.
They all had particular smells- those things which he burned. Paper smelled of ash and dried, hot trees, as in the desert, the heat so thick and juicy you could drink it, pour it inside of you, fill yourself with warmth in a way which standing in front of a fire, rubbing your hands together did not even thouch.
Incense- he supposed it ought to be different, depending on the smell. He only ever bought sandalwood, nothing else and so he didn't...
The floor lights illuminated her, a glowing angel against the grimy backdrop of the darkened stage. The crowd was quiet as she adjusted the microphone, lowering it from the previous performer. Her eyes opened wide, drinking in the dimly-lit crowd, her mouth parted and she began to sing.
My drink was halfway to my mouth when she released those first few notes and it stayed there, my arm unable to move. Her voice was hypnotizing, mesmerizing.
I floated up, her melody acting like a hook. I looked down and saw my body still sitting there, the glass still halfway between...