The lamp wouldn't turn on. This was because I was twisting Arthur's nose instead of the lamp switch. However, this doesn't change the fact that the lamp wouldn't turn on.
"Ouch! Stop twisting my nose," Arthur said.
"Turn on the lamp," I said, twisting his nose.
"Not until you stop twisting my nose," he said. It sounded more like he said "twizdig by dose," which sounds hilarious and just made me want to twist his nose further.
"Never!" I shouted. I wasn't sure why I shouted never, but it felt like the right thing to shout. I could sense Arthur...
Well, when the baby pop his head out of his mother tummy, the baby already was in distress by this unknow new environment. What a shock to him. All he could said already was;
What do I am doing here!
"It feels so cold"
"Why do they take me out of my confortable warm place"
Yet, more and more the baby wanted to go back, the nurse only wash him and presented to the mother.
It felt suddenly very comfortable to be hold and the baby could feel the warmth again.
"What a joy again, he said to himself"
As...
I'm a rockstar. And I want to be a rockstar. Doesn't make much sense, does it? Doesn't to me, either. I guess I just want to be a better rock star then my enemy, who is also a rockstar. Hey, guess what my name is? Rock Star. Not even joking. Rock Xavier Star. Idiot parents gave me a guitar for my first birthday and now I'm Rock Star the rockstar. I hate my life.
Scott winced as he saw the woman spread the fingers of her left hand on the table. Of the standard complement of five, she had only her pinky and thumb remaining. The others appeared to have been cleanly sliced off.
"Ouch," he said, taking notes on her chart. "What was your occupation?" he asked politely, trying not to let the sight bother him.
"Data entry clerk," she said in a laconic, bitter tone.
"I, ah, yes, I can see how that would be ..." Scott coughed to disguise his confused verbal fumbling. He wrote some more, primarily as an excuse...
Dishes. Toaster. Coffee. Napkins.
Her breakfast routine was always the same. She performs it today as she did on so many days before, and as she would on every day for the rest of her years.
She brushes the tablecloth clean, while she waits for the coffee. She quietly assembles everything: sugar, milk, scones, jam. She does not speak.
She painstakingly sets two places, attentive to every detail. Her cup of coffee would receive two spoonfuls of sugar. The far cup would receive three. Always three.
The toaster signals that breakfast is ready. She pours the coffee, lays out the...
Outnumbered three to one. And I think A fourth was creeping up behind me. They fanned out across the mouth of the alley and whispered to each other. They walked forward slowly, and together, I chuckled a bit when I imagined them to be a dancing troupe.
They saw me laugh and slowed their pace, not by much, but just enough to show me I had rattled them.
Cold, black steel appeared in their grimy fingers. One knife, one section of pipe, and the lead man pulled a snub-nosed pistol. A .22, a woman's gun. I wondered how close I...
The Potentate surveyed his creamsicle tower smoothly. "Good good," he said in his nasally voice. Rubbing his hands together with childish glee, the balding old man dove face first into the treat and began to lap it up as his guards looked on with a mixture of amusement and derision.
The green clad man fought the rain off and finally got his tan. YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYy:)
I can taste the tingle on my tongue the second it touches. I can smell the sweet/sour, crisp, smell. The food is amazing here. They have things I have never seen before. All of the yellows, oranges, blues and reds. The rainbow of food. The tastes of everything is new and refreshing. None of it makes sense. How can a place like this, make such beautiful flavors? The new discoveries of flavors and smells fills my mind. What new things can they even make? Find? The question lingers in my mind.
"hello Maggie." Said mother I couldn't believe that she was trying to talk to me now. After all the things she put me through, over a cup of tea! "Yes Mother?" I responded in a malicious tone. "Are you ready to apologize?" She said as though she was expecting it now. What was up with her and the stupid customs that she brought from England. "Yes Mother, I'm sorry about your stupid cup of tea and your stupid customs that make no sense here in AMERICA." I screamed at her. Seconds later i felt the white hot sting of a...