Giving in wasn't an option. "2,4,6,8! We don't want to integrate!" shouted his T-Shirt. Well, the left hand side. The right blared out "We're ALL in this (body) together…"
Both the Prosecution and the Defence barristers sighed at the witness's garb, shuffled papers, breathed slowly, and were grateful he was wearing anything at all. Both were getting paid. From the same bank account, in fact. They both rose as the Right Honourable Judge Jewel took  in the room, and then her seat.
The clerk stood and announced in a notably less bored tone than usual, "Giles #3 versus Giles #1,2...
A dry, sandy summer like this one. I had met him just a mile down, by the Shell gas station, his cowboy boots kicking up a torrid storm as he leaned against an electric pole and kicked a Pepsi can out of his way -- it rolled like a tumbling weed before coming to a halt at my sandal-wrapped toes.
I picked it up, sand and dust whirling around me, forcing themselves into the slits of my eyes. "Hey cowboy."
He looked at me and said nothing. He lured me in with absolutely nothing but an intense blue stare as...
Fish meant for market was found dumped in a bin outside the school. The mother believed the rotting smell would disguise her hidden bundle beneath. Her post-birth addled brain forgetting only papers were supposed to be in that container and what she tried to dispose would be eventually found.
Margarita wasn't a bad person. She did what she thought best at the time. Took her baby to the church and left her on the steps timing so the priest would find it. The bloody towels, rags, her own clothing stuffed below the fish. She kept the umbilical cord and placenta....
Headphones on, gazing far out into the horizon, the tops of the Adirondacks at her feet, flowing out into the valley like waves, going for miles. He was behind her. Her father had fallen on the path up to this point. He had clutched his chest and complained of shooting pains down the arm, but she hadn't listened. She was at that age, the precipice of adulthood teetering before her, and she was certain she no longer needed to listen to her father, not about this, not about anything. But when they reached the crest of the hill, she looked...
It was so amazing. Posideon and Aphrodite swimming together, in the ocean. Zeus wondered why the first goddess of the earth and his brother were acting like they weren't total enemies. He jumped like a dolphin and made her laugh. She joined him in the air and they splashed around the crystal clear ocean. Zeus smiled. There was a bond forming here. Sons of either were going to be fuming. Not to mention Ares. he'd probably beat the seaweed out of poor Posideon once he found out.
She walked slowly, the sound of her shoes crunching the leaves beneath her. Her dark, brown curls fell on to her shoulders, and her snow-white skirt blew in the wind. To a passer-by, she was simply a stranger. A beautiful stranger, in fact, but in reality, her soul was darker than the night of a new moon. Nobody knew what she had done. The cute, innocent farm girl was not as virtuous as she seemed.
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...
Wine.
"Wine is the one thing we have left in common," he thought, looking out over the set table before him. She had opted for the house red, as he did. She hadn't drunk much of her glass; no time for it between the business at hand. He had gorged himself of his own glass.
She drew some papers from her bag. Starched, sparkling papers with her lawyer's mark on them.
"Her lawyer's mark on her," he thought.
He motioned the waiter to quickly refill his cup. He emptied it with equal alacrity.
Not words, but papers passed between them....
I knew that my outfit was risky, the plunging black bra exposing large breasts and cleavage. White sheer dress with black embroidery. The patterned hat, sharp, long painted fingernails and matching blood red lipstick may have looked good in a lounge bar but my fiance's grandmother was not impressed. Her husband was though. He couldn't keep his eyes off my chest and received a withering glance from his wife and got told to make the drinks in another room.
I never guessed that Bob's family were so rich. The white remote gates gave it away. I imagined they would live...
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up.
"I must protest!" she shouted, above the din of the room.
The man at the other side looked at her quizically. "Miss Whitely, would you please sit down? You're not allowed to speak out until it's your turn in the witness stand."
"But this man is slandering me! I never did any of those things!"
"Miss, that's how court works. They tell their story, and you tell yours."
"But it's wrong!"
The prosecutor sighed. This was going to be a long...