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...
"I'm writing you a ticket," the cop said.
"That isn't fair," I complained. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"You're selling illegal oranges in a public place," the other cop admonished me. "That means a fine, and you're lucky we're not taking you down to the station."
"What's the matter with my oranges?" I cried despondently. Those oranges were all I had. I would be destitute without them, and what little income I could get from them. I had to convince them not to take that away from me. My family was counting on me; I couldn't let them down.
"Hmm,...
I walked across the field, staring at the animals that surrounded me. The bare skin on my feet felt strange against the soft lucious grass.
A grey mist covered the area including the animals, meaning it was difficult to see what they looked like.
I wondered to myself what type of creature they were.
Each animal had horns that rose high into the misty air. White spots and stripes covered them, making each animal different from the others that surrounded.
I took another few steps forward, getting as close as I could to one of the animals without being in...
She felt stupid. Stupid? No, she felt worse then that. She felt bipolar and insane and hormonal.
she shouldn't have lost it like that, now he thought she was a total freak and not in the good way.
The kind of freak, you ignore their texts and messages, the kind of freak you tell your friends, "Stay away, that one is totally nuts!"
She was so angry with herself, angry that she couldn't just leave well enough alone, that she just HAD to speak her mind.
She liked him, but then that one little thing; when he asked about her....
The conversation lasted two words:
Why?
No.
This was the conversation that I had with myself every day. It always followed the question that I asked myself after waking up from the dreams of my foolish heart. At night, in sleep, I would dream about him and the way things could be if only life were different. We could be and do amazing things together. Every night I dreamt and every day I asked.
Why?
No.
The words I held back from this daily conversation were the ones that hurt the most. They, were the truth. They were the words...
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...
The magic of it was so simple, so obvious that she found it hard to beleive that no one else could see it, that no one else had attempted it before.
Just step off the ledge and let everything fall away. Remove the shackles that are holding your feet to the ground. Let go of the mortgage payments, the deadlines, the constant bombardment from advertising companies telling you that you absolutely needed their product in your life.
Forget about the birthday cards you must send or the work emails you need to write.
Realise that they're not important, that none...
"This is incredibly boring," she thought. Staring at her toes, watching them blend into the linoleum was making her dizzy. Not dizzy dizzy, but eyes-start-crossing dizzy. Elisabeth had to raise her head before she was caught in the vortex of double perception and lightheadedness.
As her eyes refocused on the normal plane, she recognized her father, alive, recov
General Hutchison stroked his jaw pensively. "So this - what do you call it?"
"SR-33, sir. The soldier robot, 33rd prototype."
"Took you 33 tries to get it right, huh?"
Mr. Raoul ignored the general's attempt at humor. "You'll find that it's just as capable of understanding and carrying out orders as one of your own men, sir, but its reflexes are faster, its senses are sharper, and it isn't afraid of death."
"Sounds like the perfect soldier, son," Hutchison remarked. "So this SR-33, have there been any of them programming glitches with it?"
"No sir, the operating system has...
The Dapper Man picked up a penny. He brought it up to eye level, examining it critically. It was smooth, round and shiny. Its surface was unadorned, save for a shiny "1" engraved on the face.
"So, what you're saying is that I collect one hundred of these...", he began.
"...and we can buy access to the next level", came the hurried reply.
The Dapper Man eyed his colleague, doubt riding in his voice. After all, the One-Eyed Cowboy always had an angle in these dealings.
"You know, I've not been playing this game for long, but it seems to...