In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. Ever since then, Luke had been a hero, from New York to San Francisco to everywhere in between, he was known for conquering the seemingly impossible laws of physics and flying from the valley. But he didn't reverie in his fame. Instead, he settled down in Castor, Arizona, keeping a simple life tending to sheep and cattle for the local farmers. Ince in a while, a television crew would show up and he would dissapear for a while; no one knew where he went. Except for me. I knew exactly where...
We were to meet in the gallery. The glass one, stone fronted with tiles. It is an old place, no longer fashionable. It looks out onto a street where buses no longer run and rubble fills the roads. He said he had a message to give me. The way it was said, it did not imply that the message was from him, but only that he was a messenger, of the most unwilling kind. What inconvenience it must cause you, I might have argued, to have to meet up with me in such way. What a task your people as...
She adjusted her collar, the mic hidden surreptitiously behind the pearly buttons. Her career was waning to the point were SNL parodies portrayed her as a confused old hag and the use of her name was synonymous with the people she had worked hard to objectify. She had once sparred with Palin, but was now firmly under the Madame President's heel.
"I can take you away from here," the apparition wavered into view. The faint scent of lavender and soft scratch of lace on silk pervaded the air. "Ma chèrie, souvenez vous la contracte?"
"The day after tomorrow, this will all be over. I will stop being sick, I will no longer be a whale. I will be able to touch my toes again. Heck, I'll be able to see my toes again.
"I'll have a tiny body to care for. I will no longer be a me, but an us. I was an us once, but now I'm a me. But the day after tomorrow, I will be an us again. I will be stop being sick. Did I mention that? Maybe. I will be able to look at food without retching. I...
Private Morlane glanced at the watch that he'd taken off and left on the small table by his cot, rubbing his sleep-weary eyes as he noticed what time it was. Fifteen minutes until dawn, or at least until when dawn was slated to be, according to all of the records that he had read over the last few mornings.
The last few mornings had been early ones. They were camped next to a large farm, with a broken-down wooden fence surrounding the grounds, where a large rooster loved to perch at sunrise and crow so loudly that every living thing...
She didn't want to look at him. Disappointment felt too strong to even hint the large, garish gold necklace with square green stones was the wrong choice. She knew how much it cost, not only in money but all those lonely nights for her whilst he was working late.
Moments later he looked at her wide smile, accepted wet kisses, felt her large breasts pressing into him. For once, he knew that this was the best present ever. The pretty sales assistant was right, she was deliriously happy with the necklace. It would look fabulous with the new green, tight...
I thought, looking at that bloodshot sky, wow i thought, this is a sky to die under. Look at the sun. I bet it's not looking back. I also remembered that scene with Leo DiCaprio on a beach, when he is dragging himself and he has that look on his face as if he is dying. He must be really dying I thought. What is it like to die? I couln't answert that, so I took another look at this sunset with the clouds darkly in front of it. Then I imagined what a world it would be if you...
I crept silently through then corridor, the occasional creak of the floorboards abruptly halting me in my path.
The hallway was lit up by a dim nightlight, glowing a soft orange hue in the blackness. My shadow flared up the wall as I passed, and slowly shrunk back into the all-engulfing shadows.
A turn of a corner later, and I came face to face with a door. A door, which, when opened, would answer all my questions. I placed my ear to the keyhole, and made my bets attempt to silence my breath, and slow my pounding heart beat, trying...
If I had a box full of pounds from every time someone said if I had a pound for every time
It would probably have like £50 in it
Because although that's a common phrase
It doesn't come up THAT often
Think about it
How many times have you actually heard someone use that phrase
Probably like fifty
Yeah?
I thought so
So next time
Put a pound somewhere you can forget it
And then when you find it
You'll remember this story
And that way
As long as you are alive
So am I
And if you told it...
My father was born. The pressed leaves of Limerick brushed from the crib. A mirage shimmers over the pond. Ships and flags and trucks. Red brick stoops on analog streets. Lamps on the corners.
We move and it is 30 years later. Soon the crushed leaves of New York gather. The east coast bleeds in tides, rushing us over the Plains.
In the West, we dry in the momentary sun, then open our mouths for the never-ending rain.