The sound reverberated through the streets. It was as inevitable as an old man passing gas. The sound of children of all ages gnashing their teeth as the electricity that powered their individualized false realities went out.
The modest city had been the birthplace of televitality, and was therefore the first to experience what was optimistically known as "progressive population decline." With the ability to meet perfect friends, perfect mates and raise perfect children in through completely realistic virtual interface few people felt the impulse to have actual families.
Most people also worked artificially, their movements on the elestairs and...
"why cross at all?" was the first thought. "why cross, or pass, or walk, or tread, or sprint or anything else of the sort?"
the sun was even lower than when the first thought started, oranges now completely red, soon black.
"or, why not." the next thought. "who am i to rethink, or revisit, or retry, or reimagine, or reexamine the path now before me?"
to my left, infinity. an unstoppable openness. to my right, the past, from whence i'd come. dust.
finally, twilight. but with my final choices, no regrets. only then could i step out in front of...
Taste was one of those things that was meant to be very personal, and yet everyone seemed to recognise bad taste.
The joke may have been ill-timed, but she maintained that it wasn't in "bad taste" - soon finding herself in the minority (one, in fact).
Fine. Fine, fine, fine - he would've laughed, if he'd been there. Then again, him not being there was the entire point.
He would've laughed at that, too.
It was a nice, warm day, and that was ridiculous - funerals were meant to be full of rain and the dark and thunder and the...
I'll be back as quick as I can to write this story, I need a poo.....
Oh shit! 3 seconds Lef
Skipper was panting from the last half hour of running, in fact he was frothing at the mouth. Compared to the rest of his pack however, Skipper was doing quite well. In their eerily black and white world, one of their best friends had begun to experiment on the poor dogs, and now, their world had exploded inexplicably into a cosmos of strange and disconcerting qualities. The farmer had, much to Skipper and the other dogs' dismay, altered the K-9's to the point that they had been forced to trust their previously useless eyes more than their noses. What had...
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...
He let Sai take him anywhere. Because that's what near-siblings with the official title of co-workers did. Take each other places. Lunch, most frequently, when they were the only two at the headquarters. The two speed demons made quick work of any trip, surmounted the worst of downtown Tokyo's traffic--legality of driving up the sides of buildings could be called into question, but that was only natural to them--parked and dismounted behemoth motorcycles in Gothic Lolita and gloomy Visual Kei as if they'd just strolled through a park. Naturally, when visiting the monuments, like the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building, they...
Twisting, turning, bending, breaking. Well, I haven't broken yet, but I sure can't bend much further without snapping in a million pieces. I mean, how many lies can a person twist before they break? I've been living this life for so long that you'd think lying would just be part of the job by now. I mean, come on. I'm a spy. It shouldn't be this difficult anymore. At the beginning, sure but not now. They stand in front of me and I can see in their eyes that they aren't quite as clueless as before. Oh boy. The boss...
"Wait! Wait!" Sam huffed and ran.
There was a red light, which finally made the huge white vehicle stop. It's lights weren't flashing, so Sam was sure the driver wasn't too busy.
He banged on the door only stopping when the window rolled down.
"Yeah?"
"Please!" Sam pulled in huge gulps of air. "I really could use a ride to the-" gulp, "-nearest gas station."
Blankly, the driver stared. "Seriously, dude?" the man chuckled. His deep blue eyes looked amused. "Does this look like a taxi to you?"
"No, of course not, and I completely understand!" Sam raised both hands...
Poor Kait. She has a knee brace. That sucks. How ever will she compete in the Canadian KICK GUYS IN THE NADS CHAMPIONSHIP? I dunno. Kait's awesome at kicking guys in the nads. That's cause she meets lots of arseholes. They come up to her and say: "Hey, want to smell my Cheeto breath?" Then BAM!!! A knee in the nads courtesy of Miss Kait.
Yessir, Miss Kait's won the championship three years in a row. Kait McGee, national nad kneeing champ. So when she broke her knee last week opening that can of Ravioli, all of us were just...