I'm in love with a robot. I know, I know, that sounds strange. But I am. It's name, or at least the name I gave it, is David. That was the name of my boyfriend. He died a few years ago. I designed David to be exactly like him. I love David, I really do. Although we cannot do anything physical, my heart is not longer broken. I feel...full again, full of love and emotion. I'm happy with David. David doesn't know he's a robot. He looks like a human, he looks like David. He talks like Davis, his personality...
A flash of red. A tiny girl huddled in a doorway, solace from the stinging wind. She was alone, completely alone, in a place that used to hold hundreds of thousands. Grey as far as the eye could see, except for that beautiful red dress. It was a gift from her mother. The result of much whining and pleading on her part, and saving and scrounging on the mother's. 3 days ago, on her birthday, she had opened the ornately wrapped package to discover it. She was so happy.
"What can't you just try to understand?" I couldn't say how many times I hurled those words at someone. My parents, siblings, friends, just about everyone. Each time the words would leave my mouth, they would leave me curled up in a corner somewhere dark and quiet, my heart throbbing and bleeding and aching as I try to stop my tears. But eventually I would let them fall. Tears are really quite good at washing the blood from my heart. The wounds never really heal but they scab over and leave scars that I know will be opened again if...
"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...
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,...
It was just a fruit stand. No matter what they accused me of, it was just a fruit stand. You can believe who you want, but I swear it on my life that it was just a fruit stand. I'm a fruit seller. At least, I was. Before those bastards accused me of dealing drugs. It was just a simple fruit stand. My daddy had owned it, then I did. Not a great paying life, but a life nonetheless. Just a fruit stand. Not the center or a drug cartel. I'm just a poor man without much of an education....
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...
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...
It was dodge ball. The curse! I am the nerd in school and i happen to be picked last. As usual. My crush, Hannah, was on the other team. I cant believe i still like her. She barely even knows i exists.
Anyways it was PE. The dreaded hour of the day. I was standing at the back because i obviously cant throw a ball more than two feet. There she was. The PE uniforms looked horrible on everyone else but man, she could pull it off. Then i was pulled out off my head and slammed in the face...
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....