“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...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. That was the foundation of his reputation. Whispered, announced, stated, introduced, it always provided a collective puckering of lips, a breathing of "oohs" and then sips of champagne as fingers were taken into hand, and warm, hearty pats on the back offered. What a way to enter a party, what a ticket into every party!
He never tired of these parties, the compliments on his swarthy, sun embraced flesh, and the women who plucked at his sleeves and asked what it was like up there, racing against clouds. A man could...
In hindsight, the solution was obvious.
How could he have missed it, standing up between slats on the bench?
Well, actually, that was understandable. The vial was brown-ish, the solution was brown, the bench was brown.
But why was it brown? It should be clear. Or maybe a milky-white. And why was it precipitating? C'mon, everything dissolves in a nitrate solution!
He must have disturbed the solution somewhat when he dropped it an hour ago.
He picked up the vial, and poured it in the vial he had waiting on the countertop.
In hindsight, if he still had sight, it...
I thought it was true love then. I thought it would last forever. I was so in love. It scared me how much I loved him and wanted him all the time. Since then, I've forgotten what that feeling feels like. I try to remember but I can't. I can't replicate the butterflies I felt minutes before seeing him. The trust I thought I saw looking into his eyes. I imagined our lives together. I romanticized him and looked past things I shouldn't have. Its crazy to think at one time, he was my everything and now he's a stranger....
My whole life people have teased me for my looks.
People think that what is one the outside matters.
They made me believe it too.
I was called so many names :4 eyes,nerd,overweight and manymore.
I went home crying everyday and self harmed myself, I would cut myself and chock myself.
When I turned 32 I realised that nothing matters and the picture above ( you may not see it ) is the last picture I took until I went to hevean.
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.
I was stealthy. I knew my prey was crafty, so I prepared. Night vision goggles, sniper rifle, grenades just in case. I was stalking the elusive Reindeer through the forests of the Northwest.
Oh, but he was a crafty one, indeed.
He doubled back on me. I barely saw him coming. Who knew reindeers could fly? This one was wearing a blue cape, and its nose was glowing bright red.
I should have seen it coming. He ambushed me.
Then I saw the man himself. Santa. I thought he was made up. He'd been behind the ambush the entire time....
The Wallaby jumped over the fossilized tyrannosaurus rex exhibit of the Natural History Museum and landed in a dramatic three-point stance in front of his arch-nemesis, Baron Mind. It was time to end this heist.
Baron Mind stood tall, clutching the fabled Carter Diamond in his purple-gloved hand and cackled furiously at the hero before him. It was hard not to laugh at a grown man wearing a kangaroo costume.
"Baron Mind," The Wallaby said in his thick, electronically enhanced Australian accent.
"Bear what in mind?" Baron Mind replied, and broke out into another hysterical laugh.
"Very funny, Baron," the...
But I call it "swing theory." It's sort of an uneducated, improvised explanation of how everything clicks. How one digs the atom. Why one gets so coo-coo for photons. What hip event is on the horizon.
It's crazy, baby. Quantum bums.
f18000. that was what he was being paid for murder. She'd seen to much. She was the key to blowing the case wide open. He scanned the crowded mall, looking for the face in the photo. He spotted it, and reeled back in surprise. She was just a teenager, barely old enough to drive. He pulled himself together, then put the newly loaded gun back in his waistband. He tracked the victim out of the mall and into the parking lot. She was completely oblivious, laughing and talking with her friends. She said good bye and made her way across...