"Hello" Beth said.
"Howdy!" Jacob beamed.
That was it. The same greeting they swapped every afternoon as he strolled into the building. Beth gazed at him from the reception desk as he strolled past, holding her eyes steady with the cockiest of smirks.
He knew she wanted him. She want him like they all did, only she was cute enough to maybe consider. She had that dirty-librarian look about her.
Beth watched the man continue through the lobby, leering at her. She smiled her best at him, but really saw her knife plunging into his mouth and out the back...
The young man, a plough boy judging from the callouses on his hands and the traces of leather straps on his wrist from leading the horse, was startled by the question, but before he could confirm the wise woman's wager she turned away.
Her right big toe - the one she had given to the King of the Fey as payment for 'services rendered' decades ago - had begun to ache. Something (someone?) not quite evil, not quite wicked, and not quite powerful was coming. Not yet. But soon. Her throbbing toe a warning that an 'undecided' power was abroad....
Ridiculous. He had never been so ill-treated in his whole life. To think that such an imbecilic, poorly-dressed, snivel-nosed shit could have the AUDACITY to pour a saintly bordeaux all over his wife put such beet red hues into his cheeks as to suggest asphyxiation, or potential heart failure.
The fat man shook, with an angry tectonic rumble, and the whole room seemed to hold slack for his reaction, volatile elements stirring with life...
"What in the hell do you THINK you ARE DOING!??" the fat fuck rumbles. His gold watch chain jangles with the bulbous rolling of his obese...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. In 1924, he toppled the world's second fastest record in a marathon. In 1927, he won the nobel peace... Must I say anymore?
He is and will always be, the most interesting man in the world. Of course, you wouldn't believe me, would you? You couldn't possibly believe that I would have this sort of person in my recent family line, nor would you believe that it was so direct that he was my great grandfather.
I never did get to meet him, I do wish I had heard more stories...
"Don't you realize you can make a cake WITHOUT any the products of my femininity?" asked the chicken. She fluffed her feathers defiantly, shouting over the cars that zoomed mere inches from where she had taken her stance. "That is that last time anyone takes my eggs! I will NOT provide my children for your tasty treats!" She glared at the little girl.
Darla stared at the hefty bird. She adjusted her apron, dusting off some flour with one gloved hand. "I needed eggs for my mother's birthday cake!" she protested. Darting a glance at the heavy traffic, she...
- A man goes to work (first day)
- Bumps into a woman on the escalator
- see her and man had a crush
- Goes to meet sees her there and have to work together.
- as they work together they have certain fights as they have different personalities
- work out there differences they start having a deep connection
- present there work
- kiss at the end
One boy changed her life.
It was one of those things that you only realise in hindsight, but it was true. Yet, it wasn't really about the boy. He didn't change her life in a romantic 'you are my soul mate' way. They had kissed that night, but that was more like a signature at the end of a deal - the deal that that was the day that her whole life changed.
Before that moment that he came through the crowd and took her hand and led her back onto the dance floor, she had spent years feeling rejected,...
He opened the letter from his cousin, reluctantly breaking open the blue air-mail envelope. Who uses old-fashioned snail mail these days? It was from Cat, of course. His good-for-nothing lay-a-bout drop=out relative who had adopted a ridiculous animal name and gone off to live on an remote island in the West Indies. Practically a desert island. No email there, of course.
Meanwhile, people like himself, sensible people with ambitions and mortgages, had to eke out a living in London, or Sydney, or Rome. Wherever he could. And that is hard when you are a classical musician - a violinist -...
I come from the green.
You run to the red.
I'm walking, you're runing.
Until the blue point, we met.
We walk together under the blue sky into the twilight.
On our way, I feel like to follow the white cloud. But you said the dark one is more tempting.
I don't like rain, though you come from the rain.
Still we walk. I stopped when it comes rain but you just stand there, under the rain.
The rain is getting bigger. Then we stop from walk for longer time. Until the rain stop.
We walk again, together. Now you're...
The problem is she was no hero; ready to cry, trouble breathing, and too many conjugations racing through her head to put anything concrete on the exam. She'd tried putting earplugs in to cut out distracting white noise in the room, but they only made it awkward when the teacher leaned down and said something.
"ca va?"
could she see the fear in her student's eyes? Smell the anxiety attack waiting to come out?
The girl hesitated, stumbled through some sounds, but settled on,
"yeah."
15 minutes passed, the exam wasn't complete when turned in.
Then I dropped out of...