"At long last it is a weekend", says Katherine. She didn't question why she was in this seedy club. She didn't care at all. She just wants to forget all the happenings in her life. Her work,her boyfriend and even her troublesome dog. Katherine didn't much care. She has decided that she has cared to everyone most her life. She always took everyone's interest before her own. But not this time, not when the disco is sparklinglt turning.
The music was so loud, the lights were so dim and there were many people clustered in groups. Katherine just sat on...
I held it at arm's length, pressing the butt of the gun into my shoulder. It was heavy and my muscles screamed and burned with the weight. "Almost there," I thought to myself. A strand of my hair fell into my eyes but I ignored it and kept my focus on my target. Carefully balancing my weapon, I raised a hand to still my partner walking behind me. Three of my fingers held up for him to see.
Three.
Target in sight.
Two.
Ready.
One.
Run.
We ran across the bright grass, firing endlessly in the direction of our intended...
They were listening. Ears pressed against the glass, as if it were opaque, like the doors they used to listen through when Kat and Patrick used to fight.
There was nobody in the room behind the window, just the green house and the plants which grew too slowly to notice, but somehow enough to garner praise once they had become large and showy. Lillian seemed to be listening with concentration and Indy, he couldn't help but feel like he had missed the point.
"What is it we're listening for, again?"
"Shh."
"But I'm-"
"Shh. I said shh. You're listening them...
I was my own villain my own devastating ending
The back of the car has not been cleaned very well, candy wrappers, a dogs toy. None of it speaks to me today none of it means anything. I lie here and imagine stars, the smell of campfires, oceans, sex.
I was my own Hero
The parking brake sticks sometimes the left turn signal works but you can't tell from inside. Let it drift down the big hills, brake pads aren't free.
Run your finger on the fake wood grain, pray for rain, pray for peace. The trick is to let...
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.
The conversation lasted two words:
"Get out."
Get out of my car. Get out of my heart. Get out of my head.
Get out of my life.
He left after that. I think he heard all of the things I didn't say. I was angry with him, and rightly so. He never told me that he was already seeing someone when we started dating. He made me the Other Woman and I had no idea.
His sweater is still under the passenger seat of my car. His handwritten notes are still in the glove box. His voice is still in...
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...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. But it turned on yesterday? She checked the bulb, but it wasn't there.
"What the fuck?" she noted, as she glanced around the room. This was instinctual and odd as she knows no one else is within 25 miles of this cabin, the middle of nowhere in South Dakota.
"If I didn't move this bulb, no one could have," she debated aloud to herself. "There's no one else here but me, unless..." she muttered, her voice trailing off in a way that she tried to prevent from sounding desperate, to prevent herself from scaring herself...
"Everyone is a sun," he insisted, but no one was arguing.
"Every dog has his drug," he affirmed, and they all agreed.
"He's an unusual kid," I decided, and they all agreed.
"Everyone is a sun," he repeated, adding, "but not you," and he pointed his peanut butter fist at me.
The sky was hazy and blue, like the sun in a balloon, and the road was cold and icy.
I uncoiled my hand-knit scarf and decided to wait for the moon.
The voyage was all fun and games until the iceberg came.
Nobody had invited the iceberg, and it seemed to show up out of nowhere. One moment, Rockwell was painting the dog on the banister, the next, the iceberg was full frame in the painting, like someone who hasn't noticed that you're taking a group photo and decides to walk right in front of the camera.
There was no use reasoning with it. It was obstinate, unmoving, rather dull to boot. At dinner that night, the usual good cheer in the ballroom had evaporated. Everyone was silent. The old colonel...