The results were in. Now all I had to do was decide whether to go and get them. They wouldn't tell me over the phone, despite my rather pathetic begging. It wasn't done, it wasn't their procedure. It had to be done face to face.
I doubted that good news would have to be done face to face. If it was good news surely they would have said, "It's good news, you don't have to worry any more, you don't have it."
Because that was easy. I would be delighted, of course, and the person on the other end of...
Price of a roll of Kodachrome: $5
Cost of the Canon camera: $200
Wage per photo published in Life Magazine: $25
Price per bushel of corn: $2
Day's wages for detasselers: $0.25
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...
In a flash, he appeared in a busy unfamiliar street. He looked around saw people milling around various open market stands selling knickknacks and various food items. He could not focus his auditory senses to make out the language spoken around him. He stumbled forward.
His clothes were unfamiliar, people brushed passed him with disregard. He looked down at his clothes and did not recognize the ensemble. He glanced at his reflection from a shop window and did not recognize the person.
Confusion and fear sets in. He suddenly felt light headed and could not catch his breath. Fear and...
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...
The green clad man fought the rain off and finally got his tan. YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYy:)
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.
"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...
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.
He sighed. It was an all-too-frequent result. Women never noticed him (here he paused to chastise himself for thinking that without providing any statistical evidence, and to suggest to himself that perhaps he had an availability bias), and he was lonely.
Why shouldn't he be able to give and receive love, like every other member of the human race (here, he noted that it was unethical to assume that any individual deserves the respect or love of another without earning it, and that he should avoid thinking of a romantic partner as an object that one acquires)?
It just wasn't...