One day, in the morning, not the afternoon, I was eating cheese. When I finished my block of cheese I noticed that there was an interesting amount of wind outside and I thought to myself, "Self, let us harness this power." So as I wrote down my many ideas of how to harness the power, one sprang out off of the paper and said "Use me!". It was my idea to harness wind with wind. I decided to blow up 6 balloons, 3 pink, 3 purple. I would travel the world, literally wherever the wind took me, because, if you...
"You have six minutes" He said before he closed the heavy, metal door and slammed the heavy, metal bolt shut.
"Six minutes to do what?!" I shouted, pounding on the heavy, metal door in a dark room. I searched my pockets and found this match. Lucky me. I strike it, and find a treasure trove of books, but I can't read them with this. I throw open the first one I see, and all that is written across every page is "It was a pleasure to burn." in a serif font. I think it might have been Times New Roman,...
"She was the most delicate girl in town,"
I put down my glass.
"Delicate?"
"You know, delicate" and he moved his hands as if to express the shape "Like a flower is or a painting. She had a softness. And it was hot down there all year pretty much so she was like all the other girls and wore the cotton dresses but she wore them differently. Just by herself, you know, I mean she wasn't trying."
"So you mean she was pretty."
"I mean delicate."
"And you never worked it out with her? This very...delicate girl?"
"Well I got...
Think warm thoughts.
Everyone hears about the other problem. Spontaneous Human Combustion, like it's some mysterious force. Ninety percent of the time, it's just a smoker who nodded off in a polyester easy chair. As if it's some big mystery. The other ten percent, you have your idiots that accidentally got soaked in lighter fluid, people trying to fry things, and other morons. Investigators act like it's so mysterious, but that is just because they don't understand fire. How it works, how it feeds. It's a bunch of pseudo-science, like a medieval doctor trying to cure people through bloodletting and...
"So are you going to Joanie's?"
...
"Why not? It's not like she is a bitch or anything."
...
"She didn't... She didn't! Oh that was low."
...
...
...
"All that?"
...
"Now you are pulling my leg, I knew Joanie like football, but what a way to show it. But you know we should go."
...
"Why? I can't believe you just asked that. Why? Because her parents left her to watch their home, you know that seventeen bedroom house on the hill. She wants a few people over."
...
"I don't know, fifty or seventy."
...
"Oh...
The princess ran through the halls, trying not to scream. It was iminent that she get to the throne room before the bishop did. She slid into the shadows, and instantly became one. Suddenly, the bishop burst into the hall, the ceremonial knife clutched in his hand. She ran into the throne room. As soon as the light from the windows touched her skin, she became solid once again, and visible to the murderous bishop. He grabbed her robe and she fell to the ground. She tried desperately to claw her way to the throne, fighting the bishop's strength. She...
She laid there for an hour before moving. The waves had brought her here, and deigned not to take her away again. She had a reason to be here. Why? She rose to her feet, her eight legs working in concert, hydraulics hissing as she brought herself to her full height.
The stars burned into her eyes, their light searing their way into her memory. They were mesmerising, full of wonder, beautiful. She tore her gaze away, and looked at her surroundings. The beach expanded to the horizon. A man perched on a rock nearby. She looked at him. His...
They crouched to peer beneath the stairs. The space was empty. Hiller swore quietly. Where were they? Benson stod up, rubbing his lower back. Well, the house is empty, he said. We should get going. Nothing we can do here.
Hiller nodded absentmindedly. Something was nagging at him. Something wasn't right. Let check the back room one more time first, he said moving towards the back of the house. They entered the small cupboard like room at the back of the kitchen and stood there silently. They both hear it at the same time. A faint noise coming from beneath...
The idea is to create a false memory. Get a pretty model, blur the edges, overexpose the film. You can also create that overexposure effect digitally. Have her smiling, playing. Give her something that evokes childhood. Red balloon. No, we don't want to be cliche. Green balloon. And make sure there's an overriding color scheme. Green. We don't see a background - nothing but light on the horizon. This is memory, and memory is supposed to consist of overreliance on symbols, strong images, single focal points. That was the summer when...
We hire the model. She's angry and unhappy the...
Goodnight. That's what I said to Jim, my innocent husband. He loved me so much, we had been married a year. I resembled his mom in appearance, I noticed this the first time I met her. She wasn't much on housework and I loved keeping my little apartment spotless, homely. Jim couldn't get enough of me and overlooked my flirting, drinking, strange absences during our dating years as he was busy saving money for our future.
After I drove off in my red sports car after waving to Jim, I met up with Dan. If you saw him you'd wonder...