Maggie came to Heathrow airport on a white pony she had purchased along the Thames. She was hoping to board the next blind flight to Asia. Perhaps it might take her to Tibet, but you never know with those sort of flights. She had packed a variety of items in her wicker basket, which she always looped to the brass hooks above the seats on the plane. The basket had a vertical fold-out tray, where she had assembled her afternoon tea: a cup of Earl Grey and four cucumber cream cheese sandwiches.
She got in the security line at sector...
The music in her headphones..."if you lift me up, and get me through this night, I know I'll rise tomorrow, and I'll be strong enough to try..." She stared through the mist and clouds wondering where she had gone. What had become of her life, why here, why now? Kaitlyn wanted to run away from life, love, because she really had neither. The Adirondack mountains towered over her, the chill in the North Country air was giving her bare arms a chill. Kait's brother died yesterday, 9/10/01, and today even more people, so many people died. She was glad to...
In the Kiliswa village, status depended upon how many bricks you could carry at once. If you put down any of your bricks, even for a second, you would immediately be pounced upon by your rivals.
It was a harsh life. It wore at you, carrying gigantic piles of bricks everywhere you went, day and night. Only the strongest survived; the rest perished.
Among the strongest were Ja and Na, twin brothers whose parents had died from carrying too many bricks at once (a twin pregnancy was especially hard, for the mother must carry her additional weight AND her bricks...
I was there the day that the idea of nation ended. When the black flags went up next to the reds and blues, the stripes, the stars, the figures, and all the rest. It wasn't just the black flags of course, it was the greys, the oranges, strange symbols that might not have even been human, but expressed a very human idea, "This is mine."
It seemed to happen all at once really, old boundaries didn't matter anymore, people were now brought together by an idea, or ideas more accurately, no longer separated by false lines drawn on old maps,...
Back in 1943
Everywhere was tyranny
It seems the perfect time to me
To test my backwards time machine
If Hitler dies, what happens then?
To future women, future men?
Perhaps we've come to pick the locks
To history's temp'ral paradox
They were listetning. I think they might have heard ebery word I was saying. Did I care? Yes, for they were the ones who controlled my mind. It all started when I laid down my head to sleep a few days ago. Not in my bed, but in remote field somewhere in west Texas. What was I doing three, near Odessa but not as far as El Paso? Intersting question, and I;m not even sure I know why. I just drove. Drove for miles and miles. Hours and hours. I was running from soemthing, something I didn't really undertsand. It...
My own pink shoes were the last thing I saw. Then, darkness. I tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle in those final moments but nothing seemed to fit. I was supposed to go to work that morning.
Supposed to. That would haunt me. I was supposed to do a lot of things. I was supposed to pay my rent on time, I was supposed to pick my daughter up from school, I was supposed to meet my husband for dinner that night. It seemed none of that would be happening now.
That morning, after taking the dog...
She'd have preferred the electric chair. The clinic's lobby was a stale tan color. It was April, and there was a Christmas movie on TV for Christ's sake.
Her name was called, and she went to sign the form, pay the co-pay, and was assured by the lady at the desk that this was indeed, confidential. She was asked if the man next to her was the father, or her boyfriend, or something. She lied and said no. He looked upset but ultimately should have been glad that she said no, he'd probably end up getting arrested for rape, anyway....
The red gown was more of a crimson really. I wasn't sure why she had taken it just to sit down at a doorway just down the street. She had shown up with enough money for a new garment, I'd given it to her and she'd just sort of walked aimlessly down to the doorway and sat down.
It kind of made me hate her. I know you shouldn't hate little girls but I hated this bullshit. I mean, seriously, just leave. Don't make me sit there and wonder about what the fuck is going on. Like, I don't need...
She pulled the book off the shelfe and flip over a few pages. The images were beautiful, the paper such a wonderful quality. She stroked it with her fingertips, feeling the inc on the page. What a book. So old yet in such good shape. The language was unknown to her, some form of chinese maybe. She could fing no price on it. WHat were the odds that she would be able to afford such a gem? She put it back and ambled through the store. Nothing else spoke to her. Finally she went back for the book and brought...