The lamp wouldn't turn on. And he hated the dark. Always had. Kind of a rare phobia.
He tried again, but of course it didn't work any better the first time. Could be the tagline to a life, he thought.
Nothing for it then but to head out. The room was familiar, the door should be...that chair wasn't there before, but the floor - the floor was right where it always had been.
Ok, hands and knees then. Slide along, feel the wall, aha! Doorjamb, doorknob, turn, swing, hallway. A little ambient light from outside. Feel along the wall -...
It was his job to paint portraits of people. They'd give him huge sums to paint them. Just look in the mirror, idiots! But it was his living, and he did it well. He lifted his brush to the canvas and glanced back at the young lady, who smiled. He smiled back weakly and started to paint. He loved the way the brush flowed over the canvas like ink out of a pen. It was beautiful. He painted slowly but surely, letting the paint take him where it needed to go. Soon the painting was finished. He showed the young...
On the fourth day of the invasion, the defenders opened the gates of the zoo. Let those bastards contend with lions stalking them, rhinos charging at the sound of gunfire. Make them fight in a storybook, where hawks might dive down on them, and elephants would trumpet victory for the city.
That was the idea certainly. But these were zoo animals, most born in the zoo far from any jungle, and the rest had not stalked since they were young and foolish. They yawned in the heat of the day and wondered when the man with the feed would come....
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She held a bowl in one outstretched hand. Her eyes were studying the gravel on the road, not rising to the gaze of passersby who occasionally dropped a coin into her bowl. Her mother was dead, her father was missing, she had no siblings that she knew of, she had only a red gown and a bowl. When the bowl filled with money at the end of the day, as it often did, she would take it to a nearby shop and exchange it for rice...
My friends are so annoying they threw fake snow all over me as my perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe came out of the oven. I hate it when my friends team up against me like I really don't like it because they treat me like nothing, like I mean nothing to them, I know that sometimes people get annoyed and sometimes even a bit moody. But still, I want to know that I belong, that they care about me and that they need me, but really it's annoying. it is now going to take ages to get this fake snow...
I was hit in the face with a solid WHAP!! A SMACK!! A fist hitting my face with a CRACK!! My nose is broken. Oh, why did I have to go and insult the gang leader in prison. I didn't know! All I knew was that he was being an a-hole to me, so I called him just that. And now I'm tied to a cafeteria chair and all I hear is CRACK SMACK WHAP!! The security aren't doing anything. I guess they're afraid of them too. Oh I'm screwed. Here it comes again. WHAP!!
I don't like hats anymore. My friend from camp always wore a hat, and so did I. We would switch hats sometimes, wearing each other's hat for sometime. He let me wear his hat to Art one day. I drew it. I was so proud. That was in, oh I don't know, August? The end of summer. I lost that drawing. God, I miss him. I really do. I imagine him moving to my home town, him still wanting to be friends with me. Everything being ok. But that's never going to happen. I get the feeling sometimes like he's...
Her eyes dimmed in colour as she stepped into the darkness, with the decoration lights around the chinese restaurant she slowly disappeared in a blink of an eye. That girl who is seen by commuters every night, the girl who creeps people out is Lu. In broad daylight she would be the happiest person on earth, her skin glowing in the sun, hair swaying against and bursting out with laughter. At night that girl is no longer in her, dressed in black at night, she wanders throughout the neighbourhood, paths between light and pitch black she would walk on the...
Fecking parents. Stupid betches who sent me to some Asiaman country. Like, the Olympics were here or some shit? Margo watched the gymnastics because she says those skinny betches give her inspiration.
So the plane. There's some old shriveled mushroom man who murmurs some language in his sleep. His elbow keeps bumping mine, mind my bubble betch.
Some dude picks me up at the airport. No English, obviously. Why the feck don't you speak English? I thought everyone learns it in school. Whatever. My parents sent me here for culture. Sorry if eating dogs and people yelling squiggly lines at...
I dare you. I dare you. I dare you.
Her so-called friends had decided that it was time she took a stand against their teacher, apparently his 'bullying techniques' and 'sadistic behaviour' towards her was unacceptable. Not that she noticed, people could say what they cared - it was up to her whether or not she listened. That was of course her main problem concerning her; she just didn't care enough.
"I see we're having another quiet day today?" Said with so much contempt, spilling from a mouth that was hated by so many. She took a deep breath and...