The old woman was lying on the park bench underneath layers of musty old coats, pink v-sweaters (four) and thermal underwear, not only yellowed but stained. It was hard to discern if she was skinny beneath all that or fat as her head was covered with a stripey blue and yellow scarf so only two black eyes were visible when we shook her awake.
She didn't show any emotion or even interest when she viewed the photograph. Her family were waiting in the car, giving her some time and space to take in they had been looking for her all...
The dress blue uniforms were itchy. They were tired and hot and couldn't wait for the ceremony to be over. The captain looked across the water at the setting sun. At least that part would be over, and they'd get some respite from the day's heat. But yet...
He looked down, into the cool depths of the ocean waters surrounding the metal monstrosity he had called home for almost three years now.
"And do you, Mark Wallace, take this mermaid, Jasmine Petals, to be your lawfully wedding wife? In sickness and in health... forever and ever, by Neptune's Trident?"
The...
I never noticed this before.
There's a little fairy that follows Peter around. Huh.
Why haven't I ever noticed that before? It's glittery and quick. I tried to chase it today.
Impossible.
Okay. Well not impossible. I could do it. Just practice a bit and then I'll catch it. Soon.
I bet Peter could catch it. Without even running.
I bet he could just call it over and cup his hands around it without it even noticing.
Peter went off with Tiger lily a bit earlier. I remember because a bird flew right over Tiger lily's head.
I think it...
You had me at 'Ox Bow Lake'" I sighed. Temporal Repair 202, the practical. "So we have this rift, right? And you're saying it's like God was dealing out the cards in a Cosmic Bridge Game, when this stupid 21st century chronoterrorist (I hate Chrono's) interrupted his deal."
My instructor nodded, pleased at least one of us had listened and remembered his tortuous analogies. He cleared his throat, "So, how does God carry on dealing so everyone still gets the cards they were 'meant' to get?"
We all looked at one another round the card table. We were stumped. Not...
The writers club - writer's club? writers' club? - started amicably enough. Geoff (Murder Mysteries and Historical romps) had searched his family tree back to the 1500s. Seranne (interesting name. A story there...) was nervious that we'd fit round the long raised table, with laptops and notepads, etc, and threw the odd curt look at the young couple inhabiting the corner, uninvited, and unaware. Jen set to work, with numerous hand written notes, while Rachel tapped discreetly away on her duck egg blue Huddl; only the second I'd ever seen not forlornly sat on a Tesco back shelf. Non-fiction and...
My discovery took the world by storm.
The university had sent me to South America to carry out research into unfound species in the Amazon forest. The remit was wide, almost too wide, in fact, as wide as the forest itself. After all, where do you start? And, what was I looking for?
The going was hard. Dense foliage, humidity, bugs, leeches, snakes, ants and a million other species that wanted me...for lunch. Then I saw it...nestling in the thick vegetation, it looked out at me with eyes that seemed to be on the end of sticks. I approached it...
I think that I shall never see
A sight so fine as irony
For all my life I lay in wait
To see a sight profound and great
This rosy glow that lights the sky
Answers every truth and lie
Every hope and all despair
Is wiped from mind and earth and air
Would that the sun had caused this glow
Sinking down in sunset low
Would that tomorrow it would rise
In sunrise warm and soft and wise
No shockwave yet, though it will come
The world will end and all fall dumb
Yon mass of rock that hurtles...
I don't like the truth. It gets messy, tangles in with lies and becomes one big pile of words that could mean life or death or nothing at all. I don't like lies either, to decieving. I don't like words in general, to much noise, I prefer silence. In silence no one can deceive or trick you. No one can force you to listen to anything unwanted, but most of all they can't remind me. They can't remind me of my weakness. Not that it's my only weakness, but it is a big weakness, it is the king and all...
The conversation lasted two words: "Too much." Too much pain? Too much regret? Too much suffering. And who's? From twenty nine hour a day parenting to none, in the space of one brief, bitter phone call. "We don't want to live with you, Dad. We want to live with Mam, fulltime." And then a long overdue pause of a pregnancy, waiting for the response. Not sure if it would be explosive rage, reprisals and recriminations, or sad acceptance. All that came was the dialing tone. It spoke more eloquently than any words would have done. One more abandonment, in a...
Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. The words echoed back and forth through my head. The ice went out in all directions, as far as could be seen. It only took three days without water for a man to die from dehydration. You could go a month without food before dying and several years without some minerals or vitamins. But water, water was something the human body always needed.
The ice seemed harder then steel and I didn't have any tools to chip away at it. So I kept walking and looking at the ice. I looked...