She'd always come running when I called especially on the beach after a thunderstorm collecting amber. Knowing that I'd get worried because of the deep rockpools. As this was a different time, after the apocalypse, it was the other way around, she called out to me, worried that as an aging scavenger I'd come to harm on the shoreline each morning.
Keira, my beautiful grand daughter wanted me safe, home in front of the fire reading a newspaper, instead saw me beaten with fatigue, stumbling around the barren landscape hunting for food.
I love her.
Bombs, were the last thing on his mind. Jack turned and spoke " It's funny, that today would have to be the day we become history." Jack lifted his left hand looked at it. and laughed. I puzzled said to him, What do you mean Jack, honey we can make it come on don't talk like th-." He said to me " you know what tomorrow is right?" still puzzled I didn't answer. " it was our to be our wedding day."
Dear Diary,
I'm SO sick of everyone going on about how their lives are such a bowl of cherries! I am SO not going through rainbows and lollipops right now. i am about to face one of the toughest decisions of my young life. My life isn't a bowl of cherries and no one else even tries to care. it's just " ME ME ME" all the time. Like my best friend. All she talks about is herself. how she's going off to camp and ontario and stuff and how she got a new baby cousin and stuff. finally, i...
The desert rose would always grow.
It knew nothing of circumstances beyond its control. Nothing of bodies drying in the sun, baked by heat on the hot sand. All that mattered was the sun and the wind and just enough moisture to survive.
The girl turned, picked the pink blossom, and tucked it into the soldier's kaki colored uniform. The color clashed happily with the washed out surroundings, almost as much as the smile with which he repaid her small kindness.
It was difficult getting to people to understand that actually you wanted to be in the cage. That the cage was the safest place at the moment.
The rest of the world had gone mad - or at least, it seemed that way. Maybe the world had always been like this, maybe there had always been something in a stranger's eye, maybe there was always something in the rain that made it taste funny.
Maybe the drugs were wearing off, maybe he was finally waking up to the reality. Or the drugs were taking effect, maybe he was devolving (he'd...
The old trash can on Drake and Washington avenue was the witness to the biggest mistake of George's life. Sadly, he threw in the carnations he had bought, sad remembrances for ideas that should have died long ago. They covered his old manuscript like flowers on a grave.
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...
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
The trick was picking the tired, lost ones. That was the trick. Many passengers coming into Warsaw Airport had been warned about 'unlicensed' taxis, but if you chose well they would be too confused to argue. The trick was getting their bag. Once you had that, with a "Let me carry your bag, Sir/Madam," they would have to follow you.
The trick was to walk fast enough to scare them into following you, for fear of losing their baggage in the busy arrivals lounge, but not so fast the airport police would think you were stealing something.
That was the...
Good night…
Good morning…
Good afternoon…
Chet had to find his own fun while working as a department-store greeter. Sometimes he said “Good evening” instead of “Good night” to the fancier-looking customers. Sometimes he said it to the disreputable customers, too, but a bit sarcastically, to see if they’d pick it up on it. They usually didn’t.
Every now and then Chet would greet someone with the wrong time of day. “Good afternoon, sir,” he’d say, as the sun was peeking over the mountains. “Good night, ma’am,” while the sun was burning hot overhead. And usually people just continued on...