The hillsides have been finger-painted
with Larch trees turning yellow
like smears from a child's hand
that Mother Nature will bleach away within the month
I stare, thinking there must be a pattern to it.
Birds eating seeds from cones and dropping them in flight?
Early colonizers after a fire?
Unwilling to believe in beauty without structure and reason
Dusk arrives with its gift of quiet
As if hosting it here in this small moment of time required recompense.
A perfect moment of stillness
before I turn to go inside and life's motions begin again
'Pension.'
'No, come on, you stil saying it like an American.'
'I *am* an American.'
'Yeah but you're in Paris now.'
'You mean Paree.'
'Piss off. Now say it again. Pawn she on.'
'Nah. Too hard. It's pension.'
'I'm not going through with this unless you at least try.'
'Fuck it. I'm not. Grab the overhead bags and let's get off the plane.'
'No. I'm not getting of the plane until you at least try.'
He checked the tickets. 'How much does it cost to change the return flight?'
'You want to stay longer?'
'No. I'm changing it to the...
It was hard to send a message in a bottle when you didn't even have the bottle.
Harry sighed as he put the folded bit of paper into the stream, hoping it would be carried to someone who would find him. Someone with better navigational skills than he had anyway. He couldn't even write his location, because he hadn't the slightest Goddamn idea where he was. GPS didn't do a hell of a lot of good with a dead phone, and if he hadn't slipped down that muddy slope...
Nevermind.
He rested along the stream's edge and looked up at...
In hindsight, the solution was obvious.
It was staring me right in the face the entire time but for some reason I had a hard time coming to terms with it.
It wasn't really his fault, in a way I guess you could say it was my fault. I was the one who always wanted to try new things and that night, he had been nowhere to be found. I jumped in with both feet, never once thinking about the consequences.
It was easy for me, I had no ties to anyone or anything. Well except for him.
He, on...
The gate closed behind them. Ahead of them stood the fearsome Morley house, said to be haunted with the ghosts of the former occupants, who had been killed years ago.
Jana, the youngest of the four, turned pale. "Are you sure it's safe to be here?"
The second-oldest, Robert, scoffed, "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"I'm more worried about Dad finding out we're not in bed," Jason, the second-youngest, said.
"You guys are such wusses. C'mon!" Angela, the oldest, ran up the hill to the house, opening the door. As soon as she stepped in, though, she ran out...
I couldn't sleep with her next to me. Her gentle snoring, calming to almost anyone else, was absolutely maddening to me. It was nails being dragged down a chalkboard, squealing and begging for everyone for miles to be quiet long enough for the mouse dragging its nails to be heard.
I wasn't in love with her. I didn't even love her, not for even the briefest of moments. A marriage of convenience? Who was this marriage convenient for? I knew that she slept with other men behind my back and, conversely, I knew that I slept with other men behind...
"I couldn't sleep with her next to me. Each night, I'd have a hard time trying to sleep. She was everything I could hope for and I stressed each night, as I'd try to drift off, that she'd realize one day I wasn't good enough for her. Thank god each morning she was there for me."
A married man, Tom, who lived outside of New York, was taking the train, as usual into town. Tom was married to Rosie. Margie, a friend of Rosie’s, who was also taking the train, saw him talking to a woman.
Tom appeared to be...
The disco ball was turning. It would complete its revolution in 43.247 seconds. Just now, 100 times since he'd arrived. It had 1579 mirrored faces. That was a good number. Prime and a Fibonacci. Doubly good. Three tiny squares of mirrored glass were missing, showing the grey of the adhesive beneath.
"39.7617907."
"What? Oh, square roots again."
His brother smiled a sigh, then leaned nearer to combat the thunderous bass and the high pitched chatter. It wasn't enough. He had to shout over the music.
"I'm nearly done. Just a few more minutes, ok?"
He took the shrug as acceptance...
They had come up this mountain every wensday evening for the last three years, from the creation of there IOGT-lodge. The first one in this country and now there outdoor meetings was to come to an end. The lodge house was soon to be finished and there common soberity had a place to live
Indeed in a hundred years another generation will look at this photo and now the story some even beeing related to the heroic pioners of the movement.
How the small movement for soberity started in New York state now lived on and inspired so many generations...
Green.
Colour of greed, colour of money, mostly.
Apartheid is long gone, but the mind of the elders (my parents) still fondly rememeber that history where advancements were meaningful and plenty. A time where the "whites ruled the land" and "the country was better for it".
Completely oblivious to their historical visit I brought myself to watch news beside my father and had a stingy comment to make on the concerns of some Western Cape citizens that feel threatened by "the freedom of of all citizens to apply for jobs and be transfered across the country unconditionally". Sounds silly to...