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...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet.
"I just ate a fire hydrant," he said.
Mom and I were drinking tea by the fire. Now mom's brow furrowed.
"Donald, whatever do you mean?"
Donald peeled up his soaking wet shirt so we could see the hydrant protruding through his skin. I could see flecks of red paint trying to break through the skin above his solar plexus.
Mom went into the kitchen and came back with some pliers.
"We have to remove that hydrant," she said.
She stuck the pliers down his throat and...
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...
Forget all you know about everything. Forget history in it's whole. What If you'd not only have the power to control time, but everything else ? Not in a B-movie ' timemachine ' kind of way, no,no. Meet Ivan Barbossa. The undeniable man. The man who never dies, and when he does, he just shows up again. He only dies when time and space stop existing. The end of all things mean his end as well. This man has been around since the beginning of time, seen the first cell evolve, or met the first man and woman to have...
"Skipper! Where are you, dammit?"
Op.8. Op.8.
"Wretched dog! You've only got so much time!"
Locate Rory. Locate. Locating. Locating.
"Where are you?" Another voice chimes in. "I want my paper. It's early in the morning. They told us you were an obedient creature."
Rory found, chasing butterflies on the south lawn. Come closer. Closer.
The little girl shouts, "Skipp-er! Skipp-er!"
Skipper barks, and Rory calls back. Safety is across the bridge, across the broken-windowed fairy house and shattered pond, but the voices are coming and Skipper has no idea how to stop them.
"I want my newspaper! Come over...
She opened the envelope and screamed. The paper didn't so much as drop to the floor as simply fall apart in her hands, clear liquid eating its way out of the corners and seeping everywhere, floor, clothes skin.
She screamed again as the contents of the envelope liquidated the very flesh from her hands. She turned sharply as the back door banged, meeting the horrified eyes of her husband through a blur of tears.
"Holy fuck," was all that he whispered as he grabbed the 'phone from the side and dialled 999, barking orders for an ambulance.
"Why would they...
It was the fall that surprised me most.
Helping is the one thing I always thought I was best at. Hearing thank you is one of the things I'd actually pay money for; in fact I do, because I never click that box on my tax forms that would get me paid back for donations. Although, come to think of it, I could have clicked that box and then used to money paid back to donate somewhere else. I'll have to look into that, if I ever have money again.
It started with a smile. I'm a sucker for a...
When I was 12, I went to sea. My parents hated me. I don't know why, they just did. I was a good kid. I just think I was a little too energetic. It all started when I threw my mom's car keys down the well out back of my house. Why did I do that? Well, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time. I saw it on TV, that was what I told her anyway. Yes, blame TV. Evryone always does, when we all know it all starts with parenting and your upbringing...but I digress....
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley all the way back to England where he discovered that it had been a mistake, he was meant to be in France, 1945. Time travelling isn't as accurate as all that.
Perhaps he would ought to do something a bit different for a change. Go back home. See what changes have been made. Would it be recognisable?
Jack the Ripper decided to return Whitechapel. 1888. London.
Lost, without a hand to hold. He was gone from my life. In an instant I became a widow.I walk down this lonely beach with a stick in my hand and the sand between my toes. This was our spot. we loved to look out into the vast ocean and dream of our life together. It's not the same without Jack here holding my hand. I remember it like it was yesterday.
We had only been married for about three hours when Jack and I went to the beach for the first time together. Holding hands,skipping rocks. That's when I...