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...
Standing on the edge, my mind was white. No; it was clear. Nothing I had experienced in my 18 years was going through my head. Not my mother's voice, or the orange corduroy couch in my Aunt Lucy's basement.
And then I jumped. Rocks and crashing waves below this cliff in Martha's Vineyard, our family vacation spot. Rushing into my head were thoughts of my first kiss, first time, smoking pot under the high school bleachers... My dad's face when I learned to drive, my mom's when I crashed the minivan.
My white sneakers were about to get soaking wet,...
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,...
"Wait, so he hit you?"
She hadn't meant to let it slip. She'd done so well hiding the cause behind the bruise on her cheekbone for the past few hours, passing it off as nothing. She couldn't even remember what she'd said that had revealed the truth... something about getting into a fight over something stupid. Shannon had put two and two together and, well, there was no denying it now.
Lacey waved a hand through the air, discarding it as if it was nothing. "He didn't mean to," she sighed, turning to the mirror to examine the extent of...
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...
Dark spires pierce the night, reaching for full moons and distant stars. It's more than most could contend with. We sleep, conjuring pistol dreams while the tall buildings and statues do the work of our desires of actively attaining the beauty that this world has to offer. Every day we awake to the soft sunlight shining through our windows believing that today is the day that we will quit our jobs and move to distant cities and start anew. But these thoughts dim as we put on our clothes for work and eat more morning breakfast and continue on with...
"Damn it!" She swore under her breath. The room was pitch black and she turned quickly. They were already gone. She twirled a piece of her hair, a nervous tic she picked up as a child.
"It's not funny, guys!" She yelled into the empty hallway. At least, she hoped she was facing in the direction of the hallway. And hopefully it was empty.
"Where are you?" She should have taken a flashlight. She could kick herself for being so stupid. They had been right behind her two minutes ago. She groped down the hallway, trying to find another door....
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...
"I hate these."
He had remarked snidely to his friend.
"What? These paintings?"
"Yeah, who wants to get themselves painted anyhow?"
With a clear hint of jealousy, the boy bellowed about his contempt for the rich, slamming them at every chance he could, criticizing their ways of life, their philosophies and outright opposing any sort of politic that would allow for such a social class to exist.
"Well, I like them. They remind me of, you know, like the Victorian Era or something. It's not cause of their wealth that they had these made, it's a family thing, you know?...
I was going to tell her the truth...honesty is always the best policy...right? But then I wasn't ready just yet. What would she think? How would she react? Would anything ever be the same?
"No. I can't tell her." I muttered quietly to myself. I hunched over another inch on my bar stool. I was alone although surrounded by patrons at the hotel called The Silent Sleeper's pub. The TV roared football overhead. I could hardley notice anything else in the room but the grain of the wood on the wooden bar counter in front of me, as I grew...