Marvin knew that he had to return the salad dressing. Last night, it started screaming at him. "BRING ME DWARVES!" it yelled. Strange, since as far as Marvin knew, salad dressing does not have vocal cords.
So he put the salad dressing in a baggie and threw it in the back of his backpack. He could hear the salad dressing yelling. "I HATE THE DARK AND I HATE THE WARMTH!!! THIS IS WORSE THAN THE FRIDGE! THAT WAS DARK BUT AT LEAST IT WAS COLD!!!"
Down the stairs Marvin ran. As he pushed his way out the door, he ran...
I held it at arms length. I wondered who had stuck that dead rat in my desk anyhow. i carried it out to the garbage bin and flipped up the lid. Ugh. The stench was overpowering. I dropped the little carcas in and slammed down the lid. After thoroughly sanitizing my hands, i opened my spiral notebook and jotted down a list of suspects. Number one: Brayden Leston. He was known for all sorts of less than hilarious pranks, like the time he dropped an entire 2 liter bottle of Pepsi into Mr. Zapinski's Mentos drawer. The resulting explosion caused...
I found the small book when we had to pack Grandpa's things so he could move out of that old house, and into an old people's apartment building. Mom said it would be better for him there, people could watch him and take care of him. Better care than she could, she said.
I said I could do it, but she said I had to go to school, and I never even walked the dog before he went to live on that farm we see on the side of the highway between our house and Grandpa's.So how could I expect...
White sky. The sky was so white. Sky-white. Sky-writing white smoke in the white sky.
But the bayou was blue. I'm humming it now. Bayou-blue. The snapped crayon read "you-blue."
I wanted to say something. What do I want to say. I raced through my mind looking for a word. Where is it?
What is it?
Sky-white? Bayou-blue. Nah, neither of them. I want to say "succumb" or "parse". Maybe "grenadine"?
I peeled the surface of the bayou up like a t-shirt transfer. But too soon. The corner wrinkled.
The sky went blue
Write as you please,
In six minutes,
Like a breeze.
I fear that,
Without a prompt,
The words won't flow,
Compet-
ently.
So I'll leave you this poem,
With it's oddities and misrhymes,
Mismatched verse and rhythms,
Lines that run out of time.
Words that make no sense,
Lines that are too dense,
And of course you must remember,
In this chilly month of September,
That poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. He had to find Emma. He fought against the flow of people pressing against him. He had long ago given up on trying to be civil and careful with the people going the other way. Panic showed in their eyes as in his. Where was she? Emma he called, Emma. Louder, again and again. Emma! His voice cracked the lump in his throught killing all sound. He pushed harder pressing himself through tiny spaces between and over people. The farther he got the more chaotic his surroundings. Emma, he looked around, scanning...
Light. It was painful to look at; my hangover was tremendous. My hair was matted to the side of my face, and my pillowcase had collected all of the eyeliner I had on from the night before.
It was December 4th. I was 18. I had no idea how I got back into my bed from the previous night. I had lost my keys. I was spitting out blood. I was supposed to go to Toronto on a shopping trip that day.
I went. I felt dead. I caught pneumonia from being outside in December with hardly any clothes on....
There once was a man named Fernando
Who encountered a man named Orlando
They met at mid-morning
But then, without warning
They were killed by a robot commando
When I swam across the ocean to my new home, I never guessed that I would meet the man of my dreams, or all the hassle we would encounter. As a mermaid, I was promised at birth to the son of another wealthy family that lived like mine. Humans were off limit, although it did happen every now and again, and caused terrrible rifts within the community.
Jack was so handsome, striking green eyes just like mine and long wavy hair. First saw him fishing at the pier when my hair got tangled in his line. What a surprise he...
Daring to be noticed for the first time in her life, she pushed her chair back and stood up. She knew every detail of his face: the way his nose arched in between his eyes, the way the left side of his lip always rose a little higher when he smirked as he walked by, and that freckle under his ear that she always imagined kissing.
They had worked in the same office for about six months now, and since he walked in she could not take her eyes off him. They would talk very casually, about the boring weekly...