The crow sat on it's perch, silently watching the moon. It wonders how far the moon is, and if it could reach it using just it's own wings. But of course it couldn't, because he was just a bird. The crow wonders what it's like to be free, and remembers it's life before it was a bird. The crow was once a happy young boy, but he was known for his many tricks. He was a mischievous boy, and he tricked one too many people in his life. Finally, he tricked a traveling wizard out of money, and the wizard...
Immediately he ripped his dresser draw open. Rummaging through the clothes all neatly packed. Foot steps are heard fro behind him the faster the steps the faster his arms move. As his hands go farther in the back he reaches his savior. Silver and heavy his desert eagle is aimed at the figure in the doorway. The door closed shut behind him. The footsteps have stopped and his heart still pounding. Sweat dripping his chin to his already drenched shirt. His breathing heavy he clutches his gun. Ready to Fire whom ever this is on the other side of the...
She didn't look at him. She felt her cheeks burning but refused to look up, even when Jenny nudged her side. She felt his eyes boring on her.
"Excuse me, what would you like to order?" He repeated. She dared to look up but still avoided eye contact. Instead, she looked at his lips. His perfect lips.
"Small Coke and fries." She practically whispered. Jenny repeated the order, louder.
"Alright, Small fries and a Coke. And for you?" He was gazing at Jenny, not that she would have noticed. She had become mesmorised by his lips. The way his deep...
The world has changed. We have all become compeditors in someone else's game. 6 Minute Story has changed for the worse. One night, a woman jumped from 23 stories in New York. She landed safely in a dumpster full of pillows. We had coffee the next day, and she explained that she was suffering from a mild case of "I don't care". I found that a reasonable excude and bought her a cruller. She was happy, but pulled a gun out of her purse and shot hersself in the head. Damn. Now I have to get the tip. Good coffe,...
I could have danced all night. At least that's what I thought. Nobody told me that these shoes would be the bane of my existence - what 13 year old goes to a school dance in anything but flats? At least that's what I thought.
I will never forget my eighth grade school dance. I've never danced so hard. My feet never hurt so bad. I had never had so much fun in my life! The dancing, the singing, the laughing, and, oh man, the pictures. I still have them. Real pictures, unphotoshopped pictures, the kind you had to get...
It wasn’t a specific look, or anything she said exactly. It was the things she didn’t do that gave it away. The way that she didn’t automatically include me in the conversation, the way she didn’t look to me when something funny happened, the way she didn’t move up to get more space but stayed, leg pressed against mine, reminding me that she was there.
All the instincts we’d developed about one another over the many years we had been friends were now kicking into gear and compensating for all the things we couldn’t say, not with all these people...
The rain came pouring down upon me. And as I lay there, my cheap gown leeching its red dye into the gutter, I imagined my own blood joining it and just letting myself go away. I thought about it for a long, long time. The rain intensified. The thunder seemed to be synched to my thoughts and my sudden spasms of regret and anguish and misery.
It came down to making a choice. I would either stand up and walk on, or I wouldn't. I thought about how long it would take for me to perish in this place, knowing...
…and at some moment you realize how wrong you were all that time. You don't need this anymore. Absurd. So annoying. You hear same phrases, stories, noises. And you cant do anything about it. You try to explain but what can you do when you are not used to explaining yourself. You have that stoned look on your face and not a thing can disturb you now. Because all you can hear are your thoughts. All you can feel is…and you make your first shot...
Same silence, the only difference is that you can actually hear that ear-breaking noise. Three...
Well would you believe it? There I was sat on my couch balancing a plate of egg and chips on my knee when his face flashed all over the news. Didn't do much for my carpet I can tell you, egg yolk stains are a devil to remove, not to mention the ketchup spillage. But I digress. There was our Tony in a naval officers uniform. Well I had to laugh cos it's been at least ten years since I've seen him out of his oily overalls. Scruffy little blighter he is, not very talkative, even worse since that cow...
He didn't want to fuck her when he met her. That would have been too easy.
She had this way of pausing at the end of her sentences and looking up at him, teeth together, but lips apart. Her lips were plump, but small. Her eyes were hooded. Her hair was falling down from the top of her head.
She wanted him to fuck her. But he didn't really want to. It seemed to be something that she expected from him, and he wasn't one to do what was expected of him.
That fact that she didn't know he didn't...