"Hello?"
There was nothing on the other end of the line but silence. "Hey, can you here me? Is anyone there?" Martin waited. "I didn't imagine it, did I?" He hung up. He grabbed his bag of food, and went outside, when he stopped for a moment, then turned back to the cash register and emptied it. Besides about $200 there was also an old picture inside, showing three women. Martin inspected the time stamp. Sept. 20th 1922. Just then, he heard a "BING..." as the atomatic doors opend.
Some people have never touched the snow, or swam in an ocean, or taken an elevator to a rooftop.
I once watched it snow on the ocean from a rooftop. I took the elevator to the lobby and walked out to the beach.
First I stood in a sandstorm. Then I ran in a snowstorm. Then I fell in the snow and the sand.
The snowflakes looked like stars falling from the night.
I am dancing the night away, now that I can no longer overcome the call of the ocean. She has been wanting me to join me for all my life.
I used to walk on the seaside and feel the pull of the ocean. I always know that my life would one day end in the sweet arms of the ocean. Now as I am here dancing the night away with my true love the ocean, as he left me. He who I thought loved me, but I found in the arms of another woman.
I could not hate him...
"What's that, Daddy?"
James hid a smile behind his hand and answered, "That's a telephone, sweetie. You put money in it to make it work."
"Nuh-uh. It's too big. See?" She pointed to his cell in his hand.
"It's from before cell phones."
She rolled her eyes and walked away, her four-year-old way of telling him he was nuts, and the conversation was over.
James chuckled, picked up the handset, and put it to his ear. He did it basically to show her that it really was a phone in case she turned around. What happened, though, froze his blood....
The large shape of the medical building loomed on the horizon. Vic and I were survivors of a plague tring to get a vaccine. We had been traveling for so long and this was our last chance of hope.
" do you see it?!?" He yelled joyfully.
I smiled. We were so far off and he was so sick I didn't know if he would make it
"Well, Vic how about you take a rest" I said while sitting down on a broken city curb. He walked over from the ruins of the Rise Records building-which used to be one...
We all have a demon, a monster, something of a dark creature around us.
There are many types of these creatures. They tend to look the same though, darker than the pits of the deepest holes and overwhelmingly dripping of toxicity. Once they have hold of you it is very hard to to get rid of it. There are many different types of these creatures however.
Some make you feel like you’ll never feel happiness.
Some stop you from eating.
Some will pretend to let you feel happy until they let you crash and crack.
Some will make you harm...
"Everyday has promise."
"Everyday?"
"Yes, everyday."
"Well it seems that the first day of the year has more promise then the rest."
"I suppose but I will certainly take it as a good sign that you are at leasting embracing the possibility of promise."
"I am sorry for so much, life as usual, for far too long." She looked at him then. It had been so long since she heard something deeper in his words then the surface of day to day. He didn't see her looking of course. His eyes were on the news so she turned back...
She paced the living room. He would be home soon, and she had no idea how she would answer his keys in the door.
She had spent week thinking of the words, only to lose them now. Her hands were clasped as if praying were something that would work now.
"I have to do this," she thought to herself.
"I have to do this," she said to herself.
The car could be heard pulling into the driveway. A car opens. It shuts.
She freezes. Hands down at her side. She stand amongst their furniture, their pictures, their nick-knacks.
She stands...
"Goddamn it." This is what the cop said when the door first opened.
"It's not what you think. I can explain. See, we were playing a game. Hide and seek sort of thing, and things got a little out of control." He mumbled and shuffled, which the cop always took as a sign of guilt.
"Okay, we need to get him up off the floor. An ambulance is on its way. And you --" The cop pointed at the mumbler. "You need to come with me."
Mumbler shrugged and kicked at the table leg. "I didn't do anything. It was...
Vanquished. Again.
How many times is this going to happen, just in the course of one day? How many times can you suffer defeat at the hands of your enemy? Even if that enemy is your coworker, how can you really stomach it happening over and over?
It's such a small thing, really. Who will empty the trash doesn't seem like something that could cause so much strife, but you're not going to do, and he's not going to do it, and it's just not going to get done. You keep looking up over your desk to see if it's...