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...
As he felt the air spin around him, he stood up. He could no longer see anything except the pocket watch that he had been swinging above his head. It helped him relax, but he had not wound the old clock in several days, and it was getting slow. As he looked at it now, he realized the arms of the clock had melded into a number. Four numbers. 1264. He didn't know what they meant, nor what was happening, but he knew one thing. He was going to find out. He took a step foreword, and felt a million...
He set the plate before her. She forced a smile, painted lips curving upwards to reveal tips of white teeth. This was his proposal, the setting down of that plate. If she refused to eat, she could leave whenever she wanted without fuss. If she chose to taste of his food, then his actions would be without consequence.
"Are you going to eat?" He asked, sitting down opposite her and picking up his wine glass by the stem with long fingers.
"Are you not?" She replies, voice quiet and on the point of breaking over every sound.
"This is for...
"Look it's not that I don't like you, I really do. In fact, if your company was you, this deal wouldn't be an issue."
We had been discussing this for weeks, it was a deal to take in a growing company as our subsidiary. My company wanted them, as they were competition. They didn't want in, because they knew they were just that to us.
"Phil, I understand that my company has a tendency to say one thing and do another," I said to him, as he paced from his chair to the window behind it. "But we mean it,...
I don't know what to put here. I was told that this was fun, but I am not sure yet. My friend has written many of these 6 minute stories, some of them are fairly weird. I have not written any stories in quite some time, and really I don't know if you count the sailor moon fanfiction as "stories" and not "strange kid slightly obsessed with cartoon show that DIC wouldn't finish translationg because other kids might find out what gay people are." Where was I? Oh yes. The weird 6 minute story thing. I don't know... maybe I...
I flip through my old books, looking for more of my old letters, so far I've found one to Santa, in a book about dinosaurs that I've had since kindergarten.
I find an old copy of The Bible, the same one I used to read for my Sunday school work when I was younger and still thought that people were good and that if you were good people would be too.
I find a letter to my wife in our favorite book of poetry and I wonder why she left, she never said goodbye, or that anything was wrong.
And...
'Have a nice day,' said the lady at the counter on the way out of the face painting store, which was covered in cheerful paintings of children's cartoons. Micheal was clinging onto his mother's right hand, a box of face paints for his fifth birthday party in the other.
'What's that shop Mum?' Micheal asked, pointing to the desolate looking store across the road, its lights flashing dimly.
'That is-er,' she said, trying to conjure words to keep him in the shade of innocence
'Your father?' she gasped, trying to comprehend what was going on.
'Is Dad buying adults from...
…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...
she was huddled down. depleted of all will and thought, the night went by so fast. flashes of light, neon and the sewer gas wafted through her thoughts. then there was that boy, she'd seen him before somewhere. thats was all she thought about now. despite the blisters on her feet from dancing in heels, the dried sweat that made her body clammy, he was all she could think about. she knew she had to see him again, now people were getting up for work. walking along from a long nights rest and recovering from sweet dreams. none of them...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She hugged her shoulders and shivered in the form fitting dress. Too little cloth and too much cold collaborated to goose-pimple her flesh.
The man on the bed behind her called her back. She waited as long as she could before she knew he'd start complaining, and then she turned. He told her what to do. She did it. What choice did she have?
Later that evening, the Madam demanded the money she'd collected that evening. The girl pulled up the straps of her dress. "Yes,...