One minute she was on the page of a manga novel and the next she was standing in the rain. I stared at her from my seat in the cafe. One minute I was reading about her and the next I was watching her loo around, confused. I jumped up out of my seat and raced outside. "Sumi! Sumiko!" She turned to look. It was her, I was certain. Sumiko, from my favorite manga. She was not of this world. "Sumiko, I am here to help you..." What else could I say? She was lost in the middle of the...
The results were in: I won. I won first place in the contest. What contest? The contest to setermine who would recieve the grand prize of 1 milllion dollars. Shocked, flaberghasted! Amazed! crying! I couldn't belive it! I said to to Milred, the clerk at the counter, "Wait. Are you serious? I won? Are you sure? Could you check my ticket again, just to make sure?" Milred, a 65 year old grandmother who could barely see over the counter, said, "Mister. I've looked at it three times already. You must belive it. You have won. You are a wealthy man...
The sunlight pushed its way through the heavy curtains at my enormous window and I shut it out. I need to be alone, I tell myself but I know that I can never be alone for long. After a while someone is bound to come along and try to cheer me up. I might smile, might even laugh but we all know that laughter can't last forever. I force myself to peek out the window and observe the street below. A cluster of small children play on the sidewalk, laughing. The joy on their faces lights a spark in me...
My heart was pumping. I ran down the old wooden stairs as the clock striked 3:00pm. I rushed on the computer not caring that I pushed down my grandma and she was hurt. These results were the most important thing in my life. I logged in to my computer as fast as a cheetah, But than I forgot what my password was to the skyward. The heart pumping, my brain was hurting from me trying to remember what the password was."Ahhhhhhh" I screamed grandma who was still on the flor stopped moaning and put her attention to me. " what...
The girl with the blond pony tail sits down on the grass with her fluffy pink skirt creating a cloud around her little body. She bends down and cups her little hands to the ground. Gingerly, she peeks at the treasure in her hands, lets out a shriek and runs to me. "Mommy! Mommy! Look at him!" Her little arm is thrust out to me and she lets me peek inside her hands. "Isn't he cute, Mommy?" I smile and tell her that the frog is very cute. Seeming satisfied with my answer, she runs back under a large tree,...
"Come on," Ricardo yelled, growing more frustrated by the second. "That guy is still trailing us. Step on it!"
"I don't know, Ricardo," Mark sympathized, "he looks homeless, and he probably needs help."
"Step on it!" Ricardo demanded. Mark obeyed.
Sam was just an average guy, at least he had been - but one day, he lost his job, his wife, and his two daughters at the same time. And he was cast into the streets. Sam tried to live his life, but it got harder every day, and he was in a state of severe depression. Sam had attempted...
It was full of bees! They emerged with a furious buzz, attacking her and stinging her ruthlessly. In a state of unreasoning terror, she fled, running up the stairs to the bedroom. She quickly locked the door behind her, isolating herself from the malevolent insects.
Left to their own devices, the bees zipped around the house, gathering any valuables they could find, and vandalizing everything else. They smashed dishes, burned furniture, stole silverware and broke windows. Laughing in their mysterious, buzzing tongue, they delivered a bee-related pun, and flew away, never to return.
It was the fall that surprised me most. I had never been a graceful person, and I was no stranger to the more than occasional stumble and bumble, but to actually lose my balance, to land hard on my rump, feet splayed out in front of me with no chance to catch myself, that was a surprise.
Luckily, I didn't land on my trombone, which was strapped to my back in a relatively unprotected cloth gig bag. Trombone players are marginally useful as it is, and trust me, NOBODY needs a trombone player with a flat bell or bent slide....
Potatoes. They were on my plate at dinner. I ate them. They tasted fine. After dinner I went to the bookstore and thought of you. I think of you there most, though we never shared our favorite books with each other. I don't know if you like Tolstoy or Camus, Kurt Vonnegut or George Orwell. But I think of you most often at the bookstore. Or the library. Anywhere with a million stories and possibilities between fresh and aging paper. I think of us that way, a million possibilities; a story waiting to be written or read. A story to...
Hospitals won't help a dying man. At least not one who is truly dying. Most hospitals will rush to help a man who's body is dying but very few will ever stop to nurse the man who's life is dying. Right before the eyes of his friends and family, he begins to fade away. Slowly at first, but then more rapidly until one day, he is no longer alive. Sure, he will still walk around, eat, sleep, talk - all the things that are needed too be considered "alive". Anyone who has ever felt truly alive, like you do when...