Holly scrutinized the first sentence of her novel. It was odd how not reading it for months had given her a wildly new perspective. When she was writing it, she'd been too close to the material, she hadn't been objective, hadn't made herself consider the fact that she was wrong in anything that she did. There were mental grooves worn deep in her mind that only now were swept away like footprints in the snow.
It ... sucked.
The ecstasy of seeing her work in print was instantly deflated by how awful she judged it to be. A single sentence...
The children were not at school. They had better, bolder, brighter things to be doing. The teachers didn't notice. They never did.
They ran out while at break, amidst the confusion of supposed bruises and teases and stolen lunches. The gates were easy enough to get past. Each girl's hair was neatly done up with a hairpin, after all.
The sky was bluer once they got out, it seemed. So they ran, ran hard, ran free, ran wild. They quickly enough leaped through the confines of urbanity and into spaces never explored before, wild forests filled with strange creatures. Each...
," chuckled Doctor Disaster. Twenty years of supervillainy was finally starting to pay off. He adjusted the dials on his cheese-ray to provide maximum transmutation output, then settled in to wait.
When the Moon was fully transformed into a large ball of cheese, the change in tidal forces would wreak havoc on the coastal cities and infrastructure of the modern world. Billions would suffer; unless, or course, they acknowledged Dr. Disaster as their overlord.
There was only one small obstacle for him to overcome.
His archnemesis, Improbable Man, would be here soon. There was no way Disaster could think of...
He steps on to the yellow line, crossing the line is something he's practised at. It is an art-form, not something he does with paint or words, but step by step, despite the open arms of the person standing alongside him who is trying to make him stop and think. He sees the oranges, standing side by side next to the limes, he wants to pick up a lime and throw it, but a car crawls by and he doesn't, he picks up an orange instead and throws it as far as he can. The orange flies through along the...
I open my eyes and see a light.
The sky is bright and everything seems dull.
Thats how he felt.
He was diagnosed with a bird desease that kills you at the age of 3 years old.
that was the last time I ever spoke Timmy.
I lost my grip on the wheel. The cruise ship went off to the left, then to the right, then dtrihght into a pile of rocks by the shore. Taking on water, I evacualted my crew and passnegers. Once safely on land, I looked around and wondering where in the heck we were. All I saw was slime...pink slime...and a McDonalds on every street corner. What a great place this is! I mean, McDonalds everywhere? That's gotta be good, right? Then I nboticed the people walking around...um, they were all, well, not in great shape? I looked at myself...not Arnold...
I shot my butler. I never really wanted to though, He was a kind man. It was a week ago, and since then I've been away from home. I've honestly never been past the garden walls, but I guess I deserve this punishment.
It was a bright morning, and the sun was shining graciously. I was hunting the sparrows that land to eat the seeds that were just planted.
Something went wrong. Horribly wrong.
I ran as soon as he died. I had nowhere to go, no money, and was very confused.
Right now I'm on a boxcar train, and...
OK. OK then. That's it? Really? Just- no. No. Honestly. The goal is to steal dinner? Come on now. I, the man who eats cats, can do a lot better than that. So much better. It's not like- I don't know- I'm pressed for a job or anything. No, not at all. Of course not. Why would I be? I'm the Cat-Eater. Of course I haven't been stuck on alley cats for the past few months- all skin and bones- far from the days where I ate the cats of the Tsars. They had respected me. You know what? I'm...
Absent. Gone gone gone, baby gone. She's gone again. She's away. She's fled, she's left the scene. She's vanished. You want to call the cops, hire a bounty hunter, marshal the town, grab the pitchforks, light the torches, whatever it takes, to drag her back. You would do so much, you know you would.
It's the future you can't get a hold of. You know the past and you want to scratch the eyes out of the present, but you don't want to see what's ahead. Just bring her home. This is all. Anything now, you'll do anything. Come back....
"I asked you to stop!", my youngest shouts to Juliana, my oldest. While they have been fighting, I have been attempting to clean out small hole. It might be the smallest, but it was the only one unoccupied. Being the oldest mama mouse makes feeding hard, especially when you are the farthest from the kitchen, and closest to the broom. Being the slowest, I am the only one that The Human knows about. It's extremely difficult to protect your babies when you cant' even protect yourself, especially when they are so young they can