It's easiest to appreciate simple beauty when you are surrounded by desolation.
Peace had finally settled over the dusty streets, and the small unit of American soldiers let their guns droop, looking up the hill at the kids who had cautiously come out of hiding to wander the streets once more, seeking their friends just as the soldiers reunited with their brothers in arms under a leafy tree. One adorned with freshly bloomed pink flowers.
A soldier smiled as he looked at the plants. Long gone was the time where it had been considered unmanly to like flowers. Pretty pink...
The day after tomorrow, this will all be over. He stood, still in body if not in mind. The wind that brushed past him seemed to pause, as if considering this new obstacle, before gathering the leaves that hunched against the curb and whirling them off in a wild reel. With his head tilted as if listening to a far-off conversation, he tried to pin down the source of his unease. Raising a hand in the dim twilight, he ignored the fine tremor that shook it and re-settled the case strapped across his back. Nerves, then, and nothing to do...
The building was out of place and yet appropriate at the same time. Sarah was the only one who seemed to notice it either way. An old pagaoda-like structure in the middle of the town. Other people were nearby, but if they saw it, they didn't act like it.
After snapping a few photos with her smart phone, she approached one of the entrances. (At least she assumed it was an entrance.) She knocked on the door several times. There was no answer, but it swung open for her nonetheless. She looked around at the park, and the people in...
They were listening. I wasn't worried though, It's not like I had anything important to say. Just knowing that they were there though, behind the thin two way mirror staring at me as if I had something to do with the disappearance of the third missing person this week. If they only knew that the worst thing that I've ever done in my life was stollen a pack of batteries from the Walmart down the street from where I grew up when I was 8. There was no convincing them otherwise now though. They saw me running from the scene...
Of course, Heather was twisted. Everybody knew this except Gene, so of course he was the only one who ever professed his love to her. Except Heather wanted to leave him for just this reason; who would act unabashedly and intentionally weird if she did not want to be loved for it? Heather, certainly, wanted to be loved for who she was.
The two of them were watching TV. Good-natured, his loopy grin a chipper wave at the world, Gene turned to Heather and said, "Darling, I will make you a sandwich! Stay put, don't move a finger." She looked...
“We were thrown overboard, casted onto the waters left to our demise! They captured us, tortured our very souls mercilessly with wicked demands! ”
“No, I saw you guys, you had parachutes, and falling in the water were totally your own fault.”
“But we were held hostage, left in a God-forsaken tower all tied up with (mostly) nothing to eat or drink! Only when rays of the forgotten sun poked through the crevices of the sturdy wooden door, were we forcefully fed with the remains of frogs and sour wine!”
“Oh, you mean the balcony? Isn’t access to the torch...
I didn't take her seriously. I mean everyone cheats. At least that's what I told myself. I can't imagine my face when she walked in. I remember her words, though. Or rather, her word.
"Mom!"
Everything else was blades and blood. The woman was like a ninja - I would have sworn there were two or three of her. It seems like everything from the past few months flashed before my eyes in seconds.
"We shouldn't," I had protested. "Rachel is...well, she deserves better. We really..."
Rachel's mom was unbelievably gorgeous. Being a yoga instructor hadn't hurt her physique one...
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...
Midnight on the roof. lt was always midnight up there. Something about a previous tennant of the penthouse, and some demigod battle to save the Earth (again). So, the inhabitant of 63B was quite unusual, due to the fact that she was blissfully unaware that none of the other inhabitants were in any way human. It quite endeared her to them, this special lady in her unspecialness. She even managed to use Mjolnir (Thor,s Hammer) to hang a picture one day, politely requesting it of him when he came to visit Loki, who was imprisoned on the fourth floor.
Peasants. Every last one of them, with their cheap hairspray and horrid distaste in bowties.
I stood at the edge of the sixty second annual GreatVac vacuum door-to-door salesmen conference in a state of disbelief. These people were my peers? My coworkers? My confidantes? Not a civilized, educated human being appeared to be in the room.
Barbarians. You would think that GreatVac, a company founded in 1904 on good American values would have a bit more poised and elegant populace.
And clearly the organizers of this event had very poor catering skills, as the punch was repugnant and the finger...