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...
So, I left. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had had enough. Absolutely enough. There were no more chances for me. I knew that if I stayed, it would be the end of me. The end of the me I was trying to become. I wanted it, so depsertaly, I wanted it. If I could just make it to the finish line. But first, I had to break away from this pack of slower runners. I feared that if I used my energy now, too much iof it, I wouldn't have enough for the end. The end of the race...
Mark rolled his black wheelchair into the school cafeteria, casting furtive glances at those around him as he admired the Christmas decorations. The school was flouting current anti-holiday laws, but they didn't care. Christmas was a time to celebrate, a time of joy. And Mark, for one, was extremely impressed by the middle school's principled stand.
He rolled into the cafeteria, nodding at those who looked at him, but otherwise ignoring them. it was always thus. The boy, so different, had built a shell around himself, one that he could not break down lest he end up hurt. It was...
When you dream you can dream in color and any color will do. The more vibrant the better. When I'm old i will dream in purple because I read a book once that said purple was an elderly color. When I was young I dreamt of popsicles and bubblegum the colors of the rainbow and pink hues. I remember all of my dreams giving them varying degrees of importance based on my age and how seriously I'm taking myself. Dreams about indiscretions are the best. I wake up and realize that I didn't do it after all. I didn't cheat...
Bob went driving. His car was a 1986 Pontiac T-1000. It was grey. There were rust marks on the fender. There was nothing in the car. Nothing. Bob didn't like things in his car when he drove. They distracted him. This is why he drove naked. Clothes are things. He didn't even like taking the key into the car with him. A key is a thing too. When Bob left, he had no place to put the key, so he stuck it up his bum. The police always found the key when they arrested him for being naked in public...
And I don't think that they are going anywhere anytime soon. Now that the 5am hour is upon me, I feel as if maybe the person standing in the corner of my room will be able to lift me out of bed. He's done it before, and today I really feel like I might need a little extra help.
My room is a very lively place; it is where I feel the safest. Not only do I do my best work in my room, but this man is in my room, like he always is, night after night. He no...
The argument over the preferred pronunciation of "Pax Romana" bloomed into a bloody fistfight, not that it was terrifically violent so much as the pugilists were notorious bleeders. The patch of snow on which they sparred began to resemble the flag of Japan as arms unfurled, elbows snapped back, and fists clenched so tight, thumbs overlapped knuckles.
Inside, my kung pow shrimp cooled under the air vent.
You can't be a hero if you can't move your arms. You can't get the girl with a stutter like that. What can you do in your condition? What did you expect? How can you live without the means to earn respect?
Well, mister President. Maybe I won't be a hero. Maybe I will show you how a villain gets respect. Maybe I will let you watch. Show me what a hero is, mister President.
After fifteen minutes of sex texting I put on my long fur coat over my nightdress and left the house, hoping none of the neighbours were outside and would notice my bare legs as I got into the car. The lights were off at Dave's apartment as I pulled up but I knew the door would be left open. My high black stiletto's would have announced my arrival, he knew it was time to click shut the last handcuff to the bedrail.
I climbed ontop of him,rubbing myself on his bare chest, feeling and hearing his response. This time I...
You dance because you don't know any better.
You don't realise what is really going on, you may never truly realise what's going on.
So you dance, the three of you - in a moment they are your sisters, your mothers, your lovers. They are your world, your dance partners, although if anyone asked you their names you couldn't give an answer.
You dance.
You will never see them again, after this moment, after the moon sets and a new day begins. You won't remember anything else about the day but the dance. The dance will live on in your...