Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. Being a professional, I have no time for such girls. My life is full of alcohol, women, and meetings. I also work on occasion, but if that were the reason I came into my profession, I would not currently be involved in what I do.
Do I care about the world? Funny you should ask that. Just the other day, I sent a donation to a charity. I felt bad because people are starving... somewhere.
My girlfriend is beautiful. She has done modeling for various designers...
I dream of beautiful things, of sunshine, of laughter, I dream of family. These dreams always manage to find their way into my pen as I write and turn themselves into words on the page. The sharp contrast of the thick, smooth, black ink on the creamy, soft pages makes a perfect place to display all of the beautiful words. Each of the letters are shaped perfectly round and as I read, they serve another purpose. As I read, they become paintbrushes and skilled artists as they begin to paint stunning pictures in my mind. They paint pictures of a...
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...
Drink, row 18, seat f. Coca Cola. Seat g. Orange juice. Wants vodka. That'll be $5. I can charge it to your credit card or take cash. Comes back, gets vodka, goes back, give vodka.
Jacob tells the co-pilot to take the controls. "I'll be right back."
Snack, row 23, seat b.
Jacob eyes her, and she eyes back, but is helpless to move. He makes for the lavatory, but she doesn't follow.
Orange joice, row 23, seat c. Call light, row 5, seat c.
He unzips his fly, pulls down his pants, and begins to play with himself, expecting,...
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...
I once tried a six minute story
As a cure for a tapped-out mental quarry
Writer's block was the snare
"Toujours ici" filled the air
And I floundered like a carp in a dory
I was waiting for the elevator to come to the 17 floor
i just moved into a new apartment here in this hotel , i see the top of the elevator changing to the 13, 14, 15, 16 floor then the elevator was going up and skipped to 18 every time i click the button on the it would skip the floor i look through the hallway then the lights go out to small emergency light turn on and i was confessed I see the lights skip.
i walk down the hall and know on every door but it is...
She pulled her red gown high over her head, trying to shield herself from the oncoming terror, but to no avail. The sheer vivid colour of the gown made her stand out from the bustling crowds, no matter how much she tried to huddle into the dank doorway of the closed shop.
"Please let me in," She whispered, scratching desperately on the chipped wooden panelling, "please." Tears started to fall down her cheeks as she heard the heavy footsteps of her pursuers getting closer and closer, the people around her seeming not to notice her distress.
Suddenly the door creaked...
The wolf had finally lost her, but she had lost the basket of goodies for her grandmother, and the old woman only had until sunset before she would pass away.
Red got up and dashed through the shining, wet streets, knocking into people without pardoning herself all the way, desperate to get her hands on something, anything, that she could bring to her grandmother.
Then she saw it: Me Hing Shao Pun: the Wolf's Garden, a restaurant that had opened up in the house her grandmother had been born in. The wood frame exterior was dark, a rusted loudspeaker warbled...
I let out a heavy sigh as I stepped over the cobwebs, allowing myself to have a moment of preparation. The swing rocked softly in the wind, beckoning me closer to its creaking gears. A piece of fabric rustled, caught in the links of the toy. I rushed towards it, snatching the piece of fabric from the wind, as it threatened to engulf it. The only piece of evidence that Mary had been here.
I stalked home, allowing myself to breathe, as I saw the missing posters pasted on the wall. The evidence would never be found, they would never...