Pierce Nolan had lived in Louisiana for the last twenty years, but he had never ventured much further than the edges of the town. He had always been a quiet man, a straightforward speaker with little reservations. The small town of Barkridge was where he maintained his practice, dealing mostly with the local people and their problems. It was not for the most part an exciting life, but it was comfortable enough. That morning Pierce left for work at the same time he always did, 8am sharp. He said goodbye to his wife Velma, and soon jumped aboard the 802...
We were out of gin. The night was off to a great start. How was I suppose to get blackout drunk within an hour. I had a case of beer but none were cold. I left the apartment and walked over to the liquor store. I'd eventually get there and then I'd return and get drunk.
Why the hell was it all the way down the block. Not to complain, but that was actually great. It kind of was a problem when week after week the same routine went down.
"If you just waited, we could've went to a bar"...
She was a girl, he was a guy. She was beautiful and he praised the ground that she walked on. He couldn't stop thinking about her. The only way he would be able to fall asleep at night is with thoughts of her laying beside him whispering in his ear "everything will be alright".
She does not exist.
Instead he lays awake, not thinking of anyone. He thinks of death and of not-existing anymore. He cannot sleep because only in sleep does death occur. He doesn't want to die, but he has no reason to live.
Motivation to live has...
While Bach and Bethoven echoed in my ears, I slowly, stared at the monarch butterflies soaring in the fresh, thin air that surrounded me. I bit my lip, and then grabbed at them, but an unsuccessful attempt. I laughed and laughed. I doubled over, when I saw a man in a kyak capsize, and fall deep into the depths of the water. It felt calm and natural, sitting here, looking at the trees, the water and the sunset. A white butterfly, out lined with black-blue colors, flew in, beautifully flapping it's wings, and landed on my shoulder. I glanced at...
It's ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. STOP it from ringing!
Karla never wanted to hear his voice again. Never wanted to hear that damn ring of the public phone at on the corner of East and Cherry. Never wanted to wait again; to see if he'd call, usually he wanted money. Always for drugs. Drug money. Meth money. That idiot, he was killing himself, and now he wanted their son. Brian wouldn't even look at Gray when he came to the lobby of their high rise, his dad was always high, red-eyed, and stumbling. They used the pay phone in case...
£18000. That's all it would take. But it was more than Charles had, that was certain. He gazed in wonder at that glossy, dog-eared magazine page. Awe, even. He had been looking at that same page every morning for the past fourteen years and with a sigh he would fold the mag shut and let it sit on his lap and lean his head back and rock. The rocking chair had belonged to his father. That was the only thing of his father's that he ever got. The cancer got him, a few years earlier. The rest of the family...
He led me to the spot and I gasped. "Alex...did you seriously build this?"
"For us." He took my hand and I blushed softly. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted this to be special."
"What?"I looked into the eyes of my long-time boyfriend as he got down on one knee. "Claire...will you marry me?"
My hand that wasn't holding his covered my mouth as I felt my cheeks grow hot and my heart beat faster. "Y-yes...yes!"
He stood up again and slipped a small ring onto my hand before kissing me softly. "I love you."
"I love you...
There had been many changes since last year, I observed from the front steps of the building. But it was the fall that surprised me most.
The genie that came from the lamp that I found promised me that the summer would last forever. I was so absolutely certain that he had granted my wish; but when I noticed the orange and brown leaves floating to the earth I realized that he had lied.
In fact, I even think he wasn't a real genie at all. At least the lamp worked, though.
I sighed as I reluctantly trudged back into...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. After all, it wasn't supposed to. If the lamp had turned on, it would have been back to square one for the elite team of lamp-saboteurs that had been hard at work here for a good week. It was with some relief, then, that the captain was able to announce their part of the mission to be complete. The not-turning-on of the lamp was the final piece in an elaborate and highly confidential plan, the full nature of which even the saboteurs were blissfully unaware...
It all came to a head just two weeks later....
If I were a scientist I would invent a drug, which could bring me back to all of the feelings I was able to experience in my childhood days. These days, when my imagination was so much more powerful than reality. I miss the ability of completely dreaming away in an innocent way. Childhood is a friend to me, who passed away long ago, but left me with so many colorful memories, that I will never be able to forget about it or accept the fact that childhood's something irretrievable.. Never.
I guess, these thought is one of these last...