Bombs were the last thing on his mind. He had to find Emma. He fought against the flow of people pressing against him. He had long ago given up on trying to be civil and careful with the people going the other way. Panic showed in their eyes as in his. Where was she? Emma he called, Emma. Louder, again and again. Emma! His voice cracked the lump in his throught killing all sound. He pushed harder pressing himself through tiny spaces between and over people. The farther he got the more chaotic his surroundings. Emma, he looked around, scanning...
The red, white and black jacket hovered mysteriously outside my bedroom window, under the old tree. It had been there for about a week, and it didn't appear to be going anywhere any time soon. By the way, what's black and white, and read all over?
I asked my dad about the jacket, and he told me that it was something I'd just have to get used to.
"But why is it there?"
"It just is, son."
"Have you seen it here before?"
"No, I haven't."
"Doesn't it strike you as sort of... odd?"
"Not really."
Throughout the entire conversation,...
I came upon the stone after walking my whole life. When I reached it, I was surprised at how big it was. I looked up at this giant head of stone and it looked down at me and spoke.
"Why did you come here." the stone asked.
"To change you."
The stone laughed at me. "I have been here since you've known how to know. The earth has fallen away and yet I rise up. I am fundamental. How is it that you intend to change me."
I held up my hand. In my hand was a piece of sandpaper....
I was on my way to Times Square to buy myself some coffee at Starbucks. I rested down for a little bit at one of the tables and noticed a man outside the window asking some people for loose change. I stared at my coffee and back at the man and I went outside and walked towards the man. He had scrawny, dirty hands and he looked like he hadn't bathe in weeks. I then asked him kindly if he has hungry. He had the brightest look in his eye and that toothy grin. He gladly accepted and we both...
I found the small book when we had to pack Grandpa's things so he could move out of that old house, and into an old people's apartment building. Mom said it would be better for him there, people could watch him and take care of him. Better care than she could, she said.
I said I could do it, but she said I had to go to school, and I never even walked the dog before he went to live on that farm we see on the side of the highway between our house and Grandpa's.So how could I expect...
Sam, having slung hot dogs into buns on the street corner for the majority of his 35 years, had seen a lot. A lot of anger, a lot of hurt, a lot of disgust. He though he had seen it all until today. He served up the Ball Park Frank with sauerkraut as he usually did, hot off the grill and dripping with grease, and the blue collar recipient took it in hand, as they usually do, and generously dressed it with the brown spicy mustard that was the typical street corner fare. They never had time for much else--eating...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. Being in the San Francisco State Women's Penitentiary was, well, prison. The orange jumpsuits were tacky. And the food was simply disgusting. She could not believe that she had been jailed for Aren's crime. She'd witnessed, but Aren's lawyer daddy had pulled some strings and landed her in this disgusting hole. Aren should be wearing that jumpsuit. The murder had been gruesome. How could the judge think that a preppy, pretty girl like her would get her hands dirty with such a thing? As soon as her sentence was over (fortunately, the judge had...
I remember sitting there, minding my own business. The wind was a slightly moving napkins about the table. In frustration, I put my glass on the stack to keep it from dancing in the breeze.
As I sitting, waiting for Charles to arrive for our lunch, she walked by.
It was a fleeting moment, to say the least. But my slouched pose suddenly corrected itself. I was no longer concerned with the wind or its affect on napkins.
She was crossing the street, coming toward the cafe. She was wearing a red summer dress, and it being an August evening,...
It was a vast open space. Where the distant hills cling to the horizon, and the blue sky above curves to fasten to the mountain tops below, and desert sand cloaks sheet metal on the floor, stretching as far as the eye can see. It was an illusion…
This is the place where all things die.
This is the place where it ends.
A man in a dark suit approaches me and shakes my hand.
"I’m glad you could make it."
As blood runs across the sand, and the sun drops, and red sky filters between the moments of openness...
Wine. The one I was forced to drink tasted sour. I could imagine what it was doing to my insides. The bottle forced between my teeth was going to shatter any moment, I knew it.
Waking up in hospital days later, I wasn't surprised to see lacerations on my face from the glass. The doctors tried to stop me from taking a look and wanted the bandages to stay on, but I always preferred to face reality rather than avoid it.
A psychologist was brought in, and I went through the motions. I didn't need anyone to soften the blow...