She didn't look at him. She couldn't. If she even thought of him she could feel the tears welling upp and her throught constrict. How could he be so cold, so uncaring. She took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of her self. Feel nothing she intoned, feel empty. The hardest part was getting into bed at night. Laying down next to him and pretending that he wasn't there. He talked to her about nothing and she responded as evenly as she could manage, still without looking at him. SHe could feel his frustration, hurt and anger...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. What is he doing there? How did he get in here?! This is something I'd see in a movie and just be scared for the person sleeping in their bed. Now that person is me, awakened by the feeling that someone is watching me. You know the feeling? The one where you can just 'tell' that someone, somewhere, is looking at you?
That is what woke me from my slumber, as it were. Sleeping soundly, like any other night, I awoke disturbed. Sitting up in bed I wondered what was going...
It was the fall that surprised me most. I was on the floor writhing, banging my fists, heart pounding, tears streaming.She was dead and it was all my fault. The whooshing sound in my head was drowning out my mother...I had to get away.
The clarity was too much to bear, I needed solace. I climbed the steps to my den, walked over the bodies that littered the floor. Hands shakening I unwrapped the foil and laid back as the eurporia engulfed me.
She had tried it because of me. But I didnt hate it...it was now my only friend....
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...
Set down the light
set it down anywhere
The pure clean of a random weeknight on the coach staring at the white ceiling. So many balls in the air so much that I can not control. I have given control to others.
It is my human condition.
I will set this ball here on this perfectly lit field. Void of trouble. Maybe someday I will throw it to you and wonder, as I lay here in this white clean apartment,
will you throw it back?
I jumped clear out of my skin, I did. Well, I wasn't es'pectin' him to come creepin' up behind me all quiet-like! Nearly gave me a heart attack, I warrant. It's like I always said; that boy's gonna get his self in a heap a trouble if he don't shape up an' learn his self some manners. Come girl! What's got you all google-eyed out the window? OOooohhh no. No, no. It just ain't right; you givin' him so much of the good Lord's precious day as you do. Come away from that window now, girl. That's not a good...
I'm in love with a robot. She doesn't have a physical presence, she's not some pile of servos shipped from Japan. She's an AI, the product of decades of research and development -- using tens of millions of online conversations as a template for her personality.
I know people tell me that she just scours all my emails in an effort to become what I like, and I know people tell me that she's nothing more than a neural network backed by a huge database. But is that so different from a human brain?
I tapped the pencil on the desk, each tap with a rhythmic beat. I was creating a song in my head. A voice snapped out of it, "Daze. Daze, Wake up!" snapped the voice. I suddenly sat up straight and opened my sleepy eyes. "This is the third time this has happened. Please go to the principal's office immediately." I groaned and stood up, in front of the class. I looked upon them before leaving. I saw May, the pretty girl who never bothers to talk to people like me. She had dusty strawberry blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and...
She hadn't felt like this since she was six years old. Once, at a circus, she had begged her father for a balloon, swearing that she would take the best care of it . She realized now that his protests weren't cruel-hearted, but frugal. That he didn't have the money. That when he begrudgingly gave in, it meant that the family would have to go without that week, so that she could feel the joy of holding that light, floating orb above her head by a string, feeling the gentle tug upwards that whispered of something more magical, more ethereal...
Dark spires pierce the night, reaching for full moons and distant stars. It's more than most could contend with. We sleep, conjuring pistol dreams while the tall buildings and statues do the work of our desires of actively attaining the beauty that this world has to offer. Every day we awake to the soft sunlight shining through our windows believing that today is the day that we will quit our jobs and move to distant cities and start anew. But these thoughts dim as we put on our clothes for work and eat more morning breakfast and continue on with...