Time.
Time is everything. It allows you to understand what happened to you, and why.
In a minute, two, three. She understood.
She understood more with each minute than the minute before.
They were separated because it was too dangerous for him to stay. She was protecting him, she was doing the right thing. Or at least, she was trying to convince herself that it was the right thing to do.
Time. She thinks about all these years they spent together ; All of these things they accomplished.
And she felt pride in her sadness.
They were finally together, but...
Taste. The middle, forgotten brother in the family of senses.
They don't have helper dogs or monkeys for people who can't taste anything. No one is working on smaller and smaller devices to amplify or stimulate tastebuds.
You can either taste or not and no one really cares.
The one good thing about not tasting anything is you can win all kinds of money on the playground by eating things. Things that might seem disgusting.
I was the richest kid in elementary school. I'd takle bets and then down worms or bugs or the digusting ham and peanut butter sandwich...
The children were not at school. Where were they? Unkown. I am an English teacher at a high school near Houston and, like any other weekday between late August and early June, I was expected a classroom of childen in front on me. Not on this day. The bells rangm yet I heard niothing. I saw nothng. Heck, I didn;t even smell anything! I walked out into the hallway and talked with the other teachers. Nobody had any students in their rooms. I then saw all the princiapls talking with angry words and loud voices. They didn;t seem to know...
*Note: the story you are about to read was based on a true story
The earthquake hadn't worried us too much. I mean, come on, we were on vacation. Worries are far away when I am on vacation. My wife and I were sitting on the beach enjoying the beautiful evening together after the earthquake when I had a startling thought falsh through my mind. "Honey, don't tsunami's usually happen after earthquakes like that?" "Yeah." "Well, I suppose we'll leave if the water starts to disappear." Well, after a few minutes, that was what happened. The water disappeared. I could...
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...
I am trying to make up words as I tremble in Fear. I can feel the first drop of sweat starting to run down my face. He, even more feared looks at me and says "don't worry". But, but I'm just not sure what that means? I'm not sure if we are going to make it, well at least we are together, and we will be forever no matter what form we are in. He says to go, but I can't leave him. He knows that deep down inside, I really care about him. "I'm staying".....
She glanced demurely across the two-foot circle of a table at him. What a catch. His work shirt was only slightly ill-fitting, his hair feigned casualness. He couldn't stop looking at her. It may have been the needless extra half-inch of cleavage she had allowed.
There really wasn't any need to try. His work-weary eyes and somewhat hunched shoulders showed that he could use some fun. His seemingly lackadaisical approach, charming smile and the comfortable way he asked her out meant that he'd taken girls here before. The Portland City Grill, 30 floors up in the highest building in Portland....
I lost my grip on the wheel. Well, not really. In reality, I lost my grip on everything. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world around me became a blur of distant activity and the noise around me sounded like a conversation floating through walls from the other end of a house. The world both started in motion and went completely still in the very same second. In that moment, walking past him in the hallway, I forgot my name. All I could remember was the image of him walking to his locker that burned itself into my mind....
There is no photo.
Like a breeze in the wind
Rising and falling.
Telling and calling
Whispers that fly
and then die without falling.
Like a small spec of dust
that seems just like the others
but is really unique
as it floats and then shudders
its way to the ground
and then splits and disperses
its atoms around.
It's horses for courses.