Sadie didn't believe Mother when she told her it would be a greater adventure than the ones she entertained in the garden. Mother squeezed her, kissed her cheek, and they all laughed once upon the summit. The air was so cold and dry it cracked the skin of her cheeks and it chapped her lips, yet it felt thin and clean, like the waters from the stream.
The ladies breathed heavily, hands on their lower backs, stays pinching them into a dazed sort of happiness. The men gallantly offered arms for them to lean on.
They lingered a bit longer...
"If you say so," I said, feigning indifference. It was best not to commit to something that would go south in microsecond, which I suspected would happen with Jacob's escape plan.
"Let's go over it one more time," he said excitedly. "At 2100 tomorrow, I'm going to shank Billy in the kitchen. The guards will come running to take me away to solitary, like they did the last thirteen times."
"You don't have anything to shank with," I said, annoyed at his overly dramatic air. "All we're allowed are sporks made of recycled corn, or whatever this shit is." I...
I had never really considered how high your presence made me. It was just not one of the things that troubled me as I soared far above the clouds when I held your hand. What did it matter to me the distance from the ground that each of your kisses took me? It wasn't as if people as in love as I was ever had to worry about the consequences.
I wasn't shocked that we didn't work out. You never opened up to me, you liked being miserable, you had a girlfriend. I was naive, insecure and adored you. Of...
The hunter followed, exposing himself. Edwin noted his height and confident stride. Their battle would be violent and difficult; but only if the hunter could catch him first.
As soon as he cleared the crowd at the train station he broke into a run, dashing past street vendors and through alleyways, zig-zagging across the city in an attempt to lose his pursuer.
After ten minutes, he paused at the mouth of an alley, leaning over to catch his breath. At the other end, a car went by ... then another ... then the hunter's silhouette appeared again. Slowly and deliberately,...
It started like any sunday morning, with coffee brewing and the literal show Sunday Morning on cbs when we decided to walk our 140-pound saint Brenard, and our smaller dog Casey down by the lake. We had Casey on the leash when Bella, our Saint Brenard, crashed through the brush and tumbled upon a deer that had bedded down. Casey fought her way off the leash and by the time we had found them the deer had gone into the water rather than to face bella. Our two excited dogs of course rushed right in after it
The Waves were...
"I don't care if I get wet!"
Eric snatched at her hand, but Angel quickly pulled away. She let her hand extend beyond the umbrella's translucent canopy, its special shielding against radiation and chemical contaminants having been turned off despite Eric's warnings.
"You can't do that!" he cried.
"Why not?" she said. "It's been years since the fallout. Why use this stupid shield anyway? What difference does it make if things APPEAR normal?"
Tears streaked her lover's face, but he said nothing.
Disgusted with the futility of it all, she hit another button on the handle and turned off his...
"It worked!" He stood, startled by the sound of his own voice. What had worked?
Looking around, he wasn't quite sure if he should be more worried that he didn't know why he had said something he didn't understand, or about the fact that he was in a place he didn't recognise with no memory of having arrived there. A word caught his eye. Phone. He rolled it around his head. Yes. He could make a call. He should make a call. A number emerged from his growing consciousness. Should he be worried about that feeling of expansion, as though...
The train in which Natalie happened to sit
Was the train that another train managed to hit
The noise was quite loud,
And in the tracks were a crowd
To which the conductor exclaimed, "holy shit!"
In a moment of clarity and inspiration, the second archivist suggested the following plan: track the social trends in our city; map them, finding the inevitable patterns; figure out the dependent and independent variables; create a mapping; and finally, inconspicuously, design public policy to tap into exactly those inputs, in just the right amounts. Prod the organism. Domesticate the animal. Soon, the stochastic trends would form into strands, then chains of strands, then threads. With time, the sum total of human knowledge be kept in the predictable social patterns of our race.
Wine, a girls best friend. Here she was,party in full swing, glass in perfectly manicured hand,playing the good-time girl role to perfection . Giddy and rosy cheeked they laughed until their jaws ached.
She did her usual party gags and the all girls were in stitches. Dressed to kill with glossy chestnut hair that fell effortlessy around her designer clad shoulders, how they envied her life- young, free and single.
Time to go home now.Air-kissed cheeks and hugs exhancged,they left full of promise of the next girls night in.
She closed the door as the last guest left and stood...