me and my sister have always been fighting. scince the day we could walk we always fought untill now. we were walking looking for a perfect gift and we saw it ....... the black dress. i always loved to try and make new fashions out of things yet my sister always followed the rules. if your dress was a millimeter too short she would tell. i had decided already that i was going to get the dress and make a new one but my sister would not let that happen . she wanted it for my mother, my mother was...
She didn't look at him.
She never did. Never could.
If she met his eyes then she would dissolve into giggles, and the charade would be over. They'd both be cast out - or maybe just him - and that would be the end of everything.
He played his part so well, that was why it was funny. He would happily sit there and spout such rot, and these sychophantic ghouls would nod and revere him.
They didn't know he was just staff in her father's suit.
He was an orator, a charmer - he could spin a yarn, and...
by the time the cops can, I sneaked into an alleyway to avoid the cops but as soon as I ran around the corner of a random building. I was outnumbered by 7 police cars and 24 officers all pointing there guns at my head ready to not hesitate and shoot. But why were the cops after me? now that is a story i can't explain much about.
It was last tuesday, a young woman was knocking on my apartment door at 6 in the morning. I hungover from the night before from getting wasted and partying. I got up...
Spinning.
As I drift towards the ground, I spin and the world spins around me. The blues and greens and browns flash past, a kaleidoscope around the carousel of my descent.
The spun silk canopy spinning with me and giving an orange glow from above as the Sun's rays find it in the blue, blue sky.
The Earth rushes up, faster now. Still spinning, I begin to tense. Remember the instructions.
Relax.
Let your legs go limp.
Tuck and roll.
The spinning stops with a thud.
Christmas morning. It was always something excting and special when I was growing up. There would be a grand Christmas tree set up in the corner, sparkling with the many cheerful lights, music playing softly in the background, and the smell of fresh holiday baking floating in the air. As kids, we would always sleep underneath the dinning room table on that night before Christmas. Well, sleep may not be the right term, we were usually much too excited to close our eyes. In the morning at 7:30 sharp, we would rouse my parents out of bed and gather around...
We were playing a family game of tag. I was the seeker acting as if I was a robber making sure no one was hiding from me. I heard a ringing in my ear. It was nothing but silence and the creaking of the wood beneath my feet. I checked every single closet. But I couldn't find anyone. It was like they had left me here alone trying to find them while they were out doing something fun. I decide to check the basement. I walked don't the slanted wood stairs. I heard the whispers of their v
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...
"Yes, I know that she murdered someone. A terrible accident, if I do recall."
"An accident? She killed her husband when she was 25 because he was fucking his secretary. Remember."
"I do remember, but she repented and now is attempting to live a peaceful life. Can't she have that?"
"Why do you love them so much? They are disgusting, and I hate being here. The only we reason we had to leave was because you loved them more."
The earth shook for an instant, as the old man moved his king.
"Lucifer, I will not have you speak about...
The people in the cafe continued talking as I stood to look at the door. Still not here. I glanced at my watch. Dash it all, I was going to be late to my meeting. He would not be getting dinner tonight, oh no. My husband wasn't one for standing me up, though...whatever. He's not here, and I have to go. I walked out of the cafe, jogging down the stairs and out. What I saw I will never forget. My husband's car and another one in flames down the street, an obvious car crash. My heart stopped then started...
I still washed his shirt. There was only his plaid shirt, because it was what he'd worn. But I still washed it. My son disappeared a few years ago. They found his body by the lake. He was wearing that old plaid shirt. The rest of his clothes I gave to my nephew, about his size. But that plaid short...I'd never give that to anyone. It was his, it was all I had left. The plaid shirt. His room was in perfect condition, but it didn't seem right. But his shirt in my soft-from-washing-so-many-dishes hands. It felt like everything was...