Bombs were the last thing on his mind.
Everyone was hiding under desks, wary of the slightest sound whereas he was wondering how soon before people registered the change in him.
They might be in shock and forget. But what if they didn't? Would he have to convince the survivors they were hallucinating?
Crouching in under the lower shelve in the store cupboard Jack could feel his ears growing and wings strain against his shirt. It wouldn't be long before his faerie body would be a giveaway, hopefully the others would have been rescued by then and he could stay...
The ghost girls kept appearing on the photographs. Even on the really old one of my grandfather.
I wasn't that concerned, it was bound to be an effect of those new pills from the doctor. The leaflet had a million and one side effects including hallucinations.
On my seventy first birthday all the family were round my house and I was just blowing out the candles on the three level chocolate cake when there was a pounding on the door.
Police.
They took me into the kitchen and closed the door. Sparing the rest of the family the embarasssment of...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.
Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?
Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.
No shoes or socks in the snow, JaKK was only focused on finding the settlement. Escaping was the easy part, finding his family might be hard. Physical discomfort was not part of his programming, his body able to withstand any extremes of temperature.
The scientists had made them. Fed them. Studied them. Experimented on them. Killed them. Few were left.
After two days he was still beside the forest, the neverending trees.
He might be alone. Lost.
But for the first time in his existence.
He was free.
Most voids were black. Or so he thought. In literature. in movies and television. When there was a void, one saw a large blackness that stretched into infinity, broken up only by the colors of whatever object the story placed in the middle of said void, in order to enhance its enormity.
But he stood now in a white void. Had it shone brightly he may have concluded he was dead, or dying. But it was just a whiteness without a brightness. A dull white, if such a thing were possible.
The woman had not walked into the space. Rather...
Sex wasn't always the first thing on Mandy's mind but it was today. The long zip at the front of the dress was perfect for what she had in mind. The photo of the online date didn't do him justice, he was much better looking. Even the meeting spot was quirky, the old churchyard. He knew she was into anything ancient, spooky, derelict from their messages.
He had suggested a picnic by the river which was adjoining the graveyard then said he'd take her home to meet his mother who always wanted to see his dates. She was very traditional...
Walking towards the light, the people wondered if they would be provided clothes or would they have to keep walking in the nude. They were unaware that they were still dressed in their own clothes. The drugs made them see the world around them incorrectly. They looked in awe at the lush green foliage, trees, grasses. All they could see ahead was the magnificent building, the place where they would be saved, rejuvenated, find themselves in heaven.
By the time the drugs wore off, they would find themselves in hell. All the rapists, murderers, backstabbing gossips, paedophiles never looked back...
I am love with a robot. As she undresses for bed I know that her body will be perfectly matched to mine, her skin soft to my touch, her responses exactly what I need to hear. She wears whatever I suggest and buys what I tell her. We are the perfect couple.
The next morning she was gone. Note on the pillow. Sorry I can't do this anymore. I need to be free to be myself. She is in the living room, unplugged, wires pulled out of her heart.
When I was young I was convinced that if you held onto a bunch of balloons you would go up in the air just like Mary Poppins. Ever since then they scared me. Phobic to tell the truth. So when I saw the girl lying down with the blue and pink balloons I had to scrabble around in my bag for medication and a paper bag. Only trouble is they were missing. Shit.
I was feeling myself get red. Hot. Sweaty. My legs turned to jelly. Trembly. Then suddenly around the corner walks a man holding a massive bunch of...
I never liked black and white photos, it's because I don't see colours well and everything looks blurry. Can't make out shapes or faces. So I don't really know what my parents looked like when they were younger let alone anyone older.
Thing is, there was something odd about this particular snap. As though it was alive. My fingers felt wet,salt in the air and I could have sworn that there was sand between my toes, they had that uncomfortable gritty feeling. Coincidence or not, gulls flew overhead, circling, making me jump with their loud shrill cry. Then I heard...