Standing on the ledge, it seemed so surreal to him. It was like an out of body experience. He couldn't remember deciding to go to the roof. He certainly didn't remember deciding to do what he was about to do. It was almost humorous how much it felt like an out of body experience, almost. He looked down at his clothes and thought of all the different things he could have worn for this. It's odd the details that come into your mind in times of crisis and stress. I guess the devil really is in the details. He was...
“Right next to the heart-shaped waffle maker, that’s where it sits.” Like so many other thoughtful, can’t-miss gifts that were utilized immediately and then quickly forgotten about.
“No, not the deflated exercise ball, it’s there on the other side. Can’t you see how neatly and purposely it’s stacked?” A thin, film of dust had collected and moisture had started to claim some of the top pages. But it was all still there, the zenith of my existence and purpose in this life.
“No I’m not talking about heart-shaped waffles!” She’s antagonizing me now… “Oh, haven’t you heard? They were all...
Suddenly everything was silent, at the death at night as the moon shined upon me. I stroll through the streets peacefully exploring the beautiful scenery of London as suddenly I hear a loud screech "OOO" there he was high up in the tree looking over me, his face focused aggressively over me as he stares me down from a distance. I freeze as a cold breeze brushes against my skin a sharp shiver runs down my spine in fear. My heart began to bet rapidly as i saw him ready to prounce, i take off bolting at full speed as...
Gigantic. It's not a word you use to describe a penis. It's too bulky. Women want softer words. More exotic words. Words that whisper and moan.
Never start with sex either. You start in the middle of things and the audience has nowhere to go. I recommend a bus stop. You get a conversation going. Maybe about how yellow the daisies are lately or why the bees are dying.
Of course you'll think the audience will get impatient. Get to the hard core sex already! But they won't. Anticipation and all. I once wrote a story that had fourteen pages...
The two of them sat there, staring at their glasses. They each had their of Johnny Walker, black for one, red for the other.
The bar tender walked by, they almost simultaneously motioned toward their glasses.
The pour seemed slow, but they paid no attention to it. Garbed in black suits, with white shirts and black ties, they hunched over their vessels, as if protecting the precious liquid from some evil darkness.
"I just can't wrap my head around it, Gabriel."
"I know Joseph."
"I mean, today was one of those days you read about, you watch in movies, man."...
Kent was stabbing someone. I think it was Mary. Maybe it was Bill. I don't know. The important thing is that it was a person and he or she was in the process of being killed by Kent, who everyone called "The Guy Who Likes to Stab People." Once he tried to stab Tony buy Tony was wearing chainmail so it didn't work. Later they went for figs.
Kent finished stabbing the person, who then died. The person was red, slick with blood. I didn't know if it was a man or woman. When he was done, Kent wiped his...
I was an optimist. I thought that I, like Hemingway, could weave my influence between countries, live in the welcoming limbo between a government I believed in and one that spoke my language. I stopped trying to return to the United States thirty years ago. I am an airplane steward now. Sometimes I write in imperfect Spanish for a newspaper named after a boat named after a nameless elderly woman half a century dead. I believe every word I write. I am happy.
But the days I spent in the narrow land come back to me every day. They knew...
The pidgeon man rolled off the sky-scraper. Thousands of birds flew with the updraft, gaining momentum as they hurled their bodies into his back. The crawling taxis below wailed insistently. Pedestrians opened their umbrellas, one by one. Sunset embalmed the towers in reflective flame.
The pidgeon man did not see what was beneath him. He only and always looked up.
His shadow grew on the pavement. He was seconds away from landing, yet the birds continued their sacrifice.
I don't like this piece at all. It is a depressing photo. :(
Read something else.
Wine. I knew that the Prosecco was cold enough and I was nervously stepping all over the apartment waiting for her to show up.I loved her. She knew that, but all she could give me was her frienship she said. Oh How much I hated that phrase, it kept pounding on my head like an hammer. I had the wine, sparkling Prosecco. If ...maybe....I was dreaming. I met her when she was very young. She was as beautiful as a star in the dark skies of Arizona. She wanted to be an actress..I was going to help her with my...