Whenever the mailperson knocks
They deliver to us a new box
I don't know from whom
But I wish for their doom
On all of their houses, a pox
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead. And it's absolutely nothing like I expected.
In all of the near-death experience stories I was told they talked about the light. So much so that I thought that I should walk into it, if only to see what was on the other side. Only there was nothing there, not as far as I've seen anyway. There's just the light.
I keep thinking that if I keep walking, maybe something will appear. But I've been walking and...
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty.
But all this non-stop male attention must mean something. Guys all ages were asking her out, even last week John (aged 22) walked her home and came in for a coffee, holding her hand as they talked about music and poetry, hanging onto every word.
Bill was a seventy year old millionnaire and called about ten times a day desperate to meet up. Jack was even older and wanted to buy them both a mansion, he was so bored with his life that he spent all his time gambling.
Steve was...
Cal reckoned he had it all just about figured.
Darlene, the victim, had spent some time with the cult back in '07. In November of that year, she split, taking with her something the cultists valued - valued a whole hell of a lot.
That didn't sit well with the Parler Jamais folks, so the sent a couple of guys over here to do her in. As for the recording, well, it was probably just to intimidate other cult members or something.
It ALMOST fit the evidence perfectly, but there were a few details that kept tugging at the seams....
The city was empty. That was the only remarkable thing about it. Its streets weren't paved with gold, it's shops sold the usual junk, it had poor districts and upper class suburbs.
The interesting thing was, the streets were empty, the shops had no employees and no customers and it's housing housed nothing. No one was there.
Well... there was one person there, there must have been, or how else could I be telling you this right now? Huh? Didn't think of that did you?
oh... right... CCTV... yeah, good point... sorry.
Sweating, her false horn started to slip, inch by inch down her forehead. "Damned glue! They said it would last 3 hours!" She lifted her nose and tried to balance the horn. "I hope no one notices."
She gathered her courage and stepped into the room, nose in the air, eyes darting from face to face. "Do they see? Will they notice?" Blinking greetings at those around her, she forced herself to smile. Better h
It was the fall that surprised me most.
Throughout my twenties, love had always been akin to a distant country: worth visiting perhaps, but out of my budget. I watched others travel to its shores with a lazy detachment and a very small amount of curiosity. There were other places to go. Other places to see. Love was not a final destination and those that went there seemed -- for the most part -- to be the eager embarrassing tourist types that I always avoided during my holidays.
Then I met Albert. The first thing I told him was that...
I like collecting lots of hats
And placing them on heads of cats
They aren't too fond of wearing hats
They take them off, those little brats
Pension. Never thought I would make it this far. The job was ridiculous, stand there, make sure the machine hit the same spot every time, stop the line when it missed and clear the jam as quickly as possible to get the line running as fast as you can.
I never thought of it as a career. I guess I never really thought of anything as a career. It paid the bills, put food on the table and clothes on the kids back. It help us make the house payments, the car payments, the TV payments. It was simple enough,...
She nearly disappeared so quickly it was like she was never there, but for scent of her perfume. I knew it was her. All those years, and she still wore sweet almond oil. She was the only woman I knew who wore it.
I followed the scent, staying well back, not wanting her to see me; not yet. Oh, she thought she was safe. She thought I'd forgotten her, or moved on. She thought that now, in this new city of millions, I would not find her.
She was wrong. I have followed her. Every step she took, I was...