Nothing is more terrifyingly beautiful than the intensity of a woman's Stare.
Not a gaze or a glace, but a Stare. One that lasts longer than a couple
seconds but no longer than a minute. The kind that cuts its way through
you, making you feel more- and at the same time, less- secure in your
strength as a man.
"She's missing!" my sister cried, "Melissa is missing!"
We tore through the house, calling out for my niece, looking in her room and under her bed, but she was no where to be found. My sister was crying. She wasn't even looking any more, she was just kneeling on the floor and sobbing like a child. I called the police, and they came with sirens wailing and started to canvas the neighborhood.
How old was Melissa? Three
What was she wearing? Dora pajamas
What color was her hair? Blond.
Did she have any distignuishing marks? She sucked her thumb.
They...
"The key to the door is lying on the floor, a meter and a half to your right," it instructed. The more it spoke, the more unnatural it seemed to Jolene, the more artificial. Synthesized.
Slowly she followed its directives, feeling along the stone-cold floor in the dark. "Be quick," it admonished her tonelessly.
Finally her fingers brushed it; her pounding, she seized the key and stumbled her way back to the door. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be calm, and carefully inserted the key into the lock. To her relief, it turned, and the door moved...
For some reason, I couldn't stop staring at the picture. It was... gorgeous, sure. The colors were somewhat exaggerated, leaving me with the sick feeling you get when you eat something that's got so much sugar in it, it might as well be syrup. The writing at the top is what really got my attention. I never really understood the whole point of Christ.
I mean, here we are, a bunch of people living on this planet that God created, and we're all pieces of crap destined to go to hell because we're just that bad. And along comes Christ...
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...
I could hear it whipping in the wind outside my bedroom; his coat that was left on the laundry line to hang dry. You can't leave clothes out on a line when it's winter in New York; 'specially the mountains. The cuffs and the buttons froze when I finally had the courage to get it. A crow sat on the line right by it and cawed when I went to release the jacket from the clothespins.
I brought it into my mama, who told me he aint' never comin' back to Saranac. It's sad, you know, that he left her....
War. Violence. We all see it on the tv, and the internet. It's all the hatred. It's everywhere now. There's so much hate, and all for no reason. But I know one thing that's true, I won't take part in it. I won't hate someone because of the color of their skin, or what they look like. Or who they love, and what they listen to. I will love you if you love me, and only hate if you show me hate. If you show me kindness, I will show you kindness in turn. But if you expect me to...
The girls rejoiced. It took them an hour, but they finally found the Moleskine notebook that Julia had so carelessly misplaced. Anna and Rachel spotted it beneath a rock that Julia used to keep the pages opened flat.
Now that the hunt was over, the three girls placed the notebook on the ground and stood around it. They took hold of each other, and began the chant. As they chanted, they began dancing around the notebook, faster and faster, chanting more and more loudly.
A beam of pure white light shot straight into the air and appeared to pierce the...
"Do you know how much you're paying to be there?"
Of course she knew, looking at her shoes. They were pretty shoes - very nice ones. She was glad she'd worn them. Something good to look at, a pattern to lose herself in as she tried to drown out the sound of her parents raging at her.
About university, this time, but really it could be anything. Insert subject here, and they would rant.
Lots of spirals on these shoes. Lots of colours, too -
Oh. They were looking at her. Expecting a response.
"Yes."
It seemed to be the...
story by Monsterbat, typed by mom:
"Sit up, please."
She sat up, her hair gleaming, her eyes glistening. She'd gotten these for free since she had gotten the deal. Show one picture of yourself in the magazine, get one physical therapy session free. She said, "You aren't very qualified at this; are you?"
Another arm got wrenched off. "Oops, sorry."
"You know what, that's it. Even if I'm a zombie, I have some rights. And if I hadn't eaten the court, I'd take you to one." Blood started dripping from her lips.
"Why don't you make a zombie court," he...