The cold bit at her toes. Pulling them to her body, she peered over the top of her blanket. The world was beginning to come alive. People hurried on there way to work, lights flickering on across the pale grey skies.
It was an odd time of day; it brought with it relief and pain. She was glad of the sound, the sights of other people. The nights grew monotonous, full of nothing. Every minute seemed like hours, every hour like days as nothing but black emptiness stretched out before her. As day broke, cutting through the darkness, she often...
I'm with stupid. It's Jerry's favorite T-shirt. He wears it all the time. It doesn't matter where we're going, he'll wear the shirt. Church, court, the museum-- he just shrugs his shoulders and gives me that grin when I ask him not to wear it. The more inappropriate the occasion, the more it seems to spur him to wear it.
Jerry's never really cared about impressions, that I get. But he also doesn't seem to get that I do. Sometimes, I think he gets some sick pleasure out of watching me squirm while he's talking to a prospective client at...
Dolly told me about the swimming pool in Mr. Sakimoto's bonsai garden. The water was warm, she said, no matter what time of year. Also we could pee in it. Mr. Sakimoto didn't mind. In fact, it was expected.
We went after school that one day in February. I'd bought a special bathing suit just for the occasion. It was a Speedo. Yellow. With Scooby Doo on the crotch. Dolly didn't like it, but she wasn't my girlfriend, so it didn't matter.
We arrived at 3 a.m. (The bus broke down so we had to walk.) By that time, we...
It was warm and dark, inside the riduculously large cave. I looked at huge stalagmites jutting up from the floor like spears. I saw a man, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cave, a fire burning beside him. I smelled something I couldn't quite place, something delicious. "Hello. What brings you to the cave of the shaman?" he said, waving me closer. I took a single micro-step forward, puzzled by this strange hermit. "I'm here for the Meaning of Life. I was told that you held it here." i said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yes. But first,...
Meteorites struck a Russian town today. I wondered what I'd be thinking if they hit the place I live. Probably not worrying about my hair as I am today. Nor whether to meet up with the unsuitable man that I know I shouldn't ever see again. Nor would I procrastinate yet again over finishing paperwork and chores. None of that would matter. Only survival. Family. Are they ok? None of the mindless timewasting unimportant trivia we are all obsessed with would even cross our minds in that situation.
It reminds me of the time I was stuck underground in an...
Running around the edge of an event horizon, static crackling, I never reach the black hole, or it's pulling me in ever so slowly.
After I met them, I thought I'd meet you. It seemed logical, even mathematical, that I would. But I didn't.
And now they're gone with only the echo vibrating, its waves ever-widening, seeking an elusive purchase.
My tastes widened for a while. I found brotherhood in loneliness, soon sought the sun, from one point in the universe to another.
Eventually I heard their songs through the static as a new black hole waltzed my way.
The...
The power of flight could be transferred.
When Marisa first discovered this, she was thrilled. As far as she knew, other 'birds' could only fly themselves, the envy of other humans. Being part of the elite wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Envy was a problem. Bitterness led to hate led to violence.
Her mother had told her to hide her abilities, that others would fear and resent her. But this new ability changed everything; didn't it? Instead of hating her, she could grant that power to others. What wouldn't those stranded on the land give to be...
He had crossed the crunchy yard to the Cathedral many times, and he proceeded as usual without thinking too much about the crossing. He didn't really hear the crunch of his boots on the blue metal surface. He didn't really see the wattle beginning to bloom. He didn't really smell the sweet air of spring. Bishop Smith was worried: someone was stealing the sacred host from the ciborium.
It puzzled him. Would anyone in the 21st century really steal the consecrated host for black magic? No one could possibly want the bread to satisfy hunger: the wafers were thin and...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not the "There'll be a twist in the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
I keep thinking back to how I died.
I don't remember how I died really. I think I fell.
Are you suppose to remember how you die? Or is that weird?
Is there some sort of weird rule of death that you can't remember how you die?
I feel like I can walk everywhere and find no one. Death is strangely lonely and empty. Am I the only one here?
I wish I could tell you what it...
When I arrived, the hyena was circling him silently, and the silence was what bothered me the most. It should be cackling. But it was just quiet. I'd seen enough hyenas hunting to know that this was wrong.
I looked at my options, felt out with all my senses to see what living creatures were nearby. Posessing the photographer was no good, since he clearly had no weapons and not much physical strength, even with my intellect of fighting capabilities. If I possessed the hyena, if The Shadow was already inside (and I knew it was, no hyena was that...