Gene quickened his pace. All the way from the pub, he had felt the presence of someone following him. He daren't look around, you read all sorts of things in the newspapers, God only knew who, or what, was behind him.
He was nearly home now anyway, another five minutes and he would be safely tucked up behind closed doors. Away from harm. He never usually walked home alone, but he was feeling a bit under the weather today, so had set off before the others. Truth be told, they were annoying him a bit with their curmudgeonly ways.
The...
Lorenzo hated the king. That's because the king liked donuts. All he did was eat donuts. Here is what the king said every morning when he woke up: "DONUTS! BRING ME DONUTS!" If you ate a donut, the king would kill you. All donuts were to be consumed only by him.
Because he ate nothing but donuts, he was very fat. He weighed 1600 pounds. He was heavier than the thrown he sat on, which was made of solid gold. He could not get up so the engineers turned his thrown into a makeshift toilet. That way he could consume...
That is what went trough my mind as I plunged into the Everglades' muddy waters. My boat just overturned. I knew there were alligators there by the dozen. That was the reason I rented that fricking boat. Now all I could do was trying to get out of there pronto!
Pushing my to the ground as I reached the bottom. I made it to the rop.
There it was! the boat did a roundabout and hit me in the face.
I woke up later at the hospital. Wounded but alive! I made it this time too. I was a war...
" what do you want, more than anything int he world?" The woman asked me.
"I want my daughter back" I said.
She did not ask where she was or what had happened to her. She did not ask how old she was, or what her name was. She just nodded, opened her hand, and blew a handful of glitter over me. Glitter in my coffee, glitter in my hair.
I was suddenly angry. Stupid crazy woman. She didn't know me. She didn't know Cindy. She had no idea that my little girl was locked in a coma so deep...
No one else stood up when the two elderly ladies got on the bus, so Bear had to provide the example and offered them his seat. He stood up as they approached and made the giving up my seat gesture with his arm. The one lady smiled and him. He watched the smile curdle into an expression of confusion and followed her sightline to see some teenager had taken his seat.
"Hey," Bear said, trying to sound tough and imposing. "You think I stood up for you? I was letting these ladies have those seats."
The teenager ignored him, scrolled...
If I had a camera every time he did something like that, I'd be winning contests. Funniest Kids, Giggling with the Stars, stuff like that.
Henry bought me the camera when the baby was six days old. He was supposed to be picking up the Chinese take-out (I loved those pancakes back then), but he stopped by the camera store. Not Wal-Mart or some big box store. No, Henry spent the extra forty-seven minutes to go to some specialty place.
I was painfully post-partum, couldn't sit without that donut, and he was buying an SLR. Like I was going to...
"Go! Go! Go!" We pushed forward, trudging through the thick sticky mud and holding globs of the stuff in our fists. "Get down!" We flattened ourselves to the ground as mud balls flew at us from the enemy lines. The warning had come to late. As I army crawled through the mud, dodging the sticky mud bombs coming at me from every direction, I saw one, two of our men fall to the ground as the mud struck them with enough force to pin them to the ground. At this rate, we had no hope of winning this war. A...
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...
Punch Judy. What an interesting thought. Punching is an interesting action. If only I wasn't that familiar with it.
One person shouldn't be able to change your life forever. I think we all know people who have been affected outside of their control - torture, rape, molestation... it's a little fucked up to put love in the same category, isn't it?
Maybe the crucial difference is that it's a sweet anguish. That's why I feel sick to my stomach, I can't sleep at night, my conscious is fixated on one person and one event. It makes me smile when I don't feel like crying. This seems like such a high school thing. Aren't those the cuts that make the...