Millions. Millions of stars in the sky, millions of dollars in some People's bank accounts. Millions of souls walking the earth. But I saw him from across the room,and I knew, from the millions, that he was for me and I was for him, and all of the millions of things in life would come to us in time.
He hadn't changed. His hair was still curly and brown. His eyes were still laughing and grey. His dimples were still deep enough to lose change in. I wondered, would he see me? Would he remember? If he did remember, would...
Signs were put up on the wall, all help is lost . The war took the lives of many great, respectable people but this was too much. For our freedom heroes were born and legends were made and many lives were taken for us to be where we are today but after the two kids died, everyone came together to stand up against our common enemy. During the second war, the germans tried to take over our land in Austria and all of Austria stood up to defend for our lives and for the Jews. Two kids were playing when...
He hadn't wanted the light there.
She had insisted - there was light on her, light on her voice, lifting her up, letting them all see her. He was playing too (had a solo during one of the songs, actually) so why shouldn't they see him?
He'd tried to protest that it wasn't traditional, and she'd just given him one of those looks, the one that made him certain that if ever (...when) she did get signed the record label wouldn't be able to force her into one of those moulds they seemed so fond of.
He'd stood his ground,...
I broke away from him and held my unbrella over my head as I walked, my head held high. "Erika! Erika!" I stopped in my tracks, spun on my heel and stared at him. "What?" He didn't move closer to me even as people jabbed and pushed past him on the street. The fresh raindrops fell onto my outstretched hand and created a gentle humming sound as they hit the ground around me. "I'm sorry. I never should have said that." He was right, he sure shouldn't have said that to me. But then... He just stood there, rain dripping...
He set the plate before her.
"Eat." She looked up at him from where she sat at the worn wooden table. He was so kind; so good. His black hair fell into his eyes as he watched her. The green eyes clouded with concern. "Please, I need to see you eat. You are killing yourself."
She wrapped her arms around her stomach and ran her fingers over the dips that defined her ribs. He was so wonderful but he just didn't understand. She needed to do this. She couldn't be fat. Not for him or anyone else.
I wish I had something to say
But every idea I have just sounds HEY!
ARE THOSE BUTTERFLIES!
IN OCTOBER!? She cries.
Attention Deficit Disorder's the theme of my day.
Once I had a bad case of food poisoning,
So bad, I called my ex-wife loudly moaning.
I projectile vomited with pride.
The guy next to me died.
When the bill came, I resumed my groaning.
That's it?
No **it?
That was terrible.
You are horrible.
The corner. The only thing I've ever known since my childhood, is that goddamn corner. The corner of my suffering, the corner of my abuse. The corner where I would listen to my parents fight for hours on end. That dreaded corner. I'm Connor, aged 22, from Springville, Oklahoma. I've been stuck in my adoptive parents' home for thirteen years now.
My parents were murdered when I was nine, so family friends adopted me. It was nice at first, until they introduced me to that corner. The corner that took away my friends. The corner that took my freedom. The...
"Happy New Year, love." the elderly gentleman smiled at her as she left the shop. She didn;t hear him. She didn't hear anything. Clutching the small package in her hand, she felt a calm wash over her. This New Year was going to be great. The best ever. The last ever.
Allowing her thumb to feel the smoothe edges of the box, she ran over her plans in her head. Over the last few months, she had gone over and over how things would work in her mind. She had done her research. She knew exactly how many she would...
I held it at arm's length, thinking that it could never get to me that way.
But as I sit here alone in this room night after rain soaked day. I have come to realize,with the full clarity of a reformed sinner; it was not that I was protecting me from it. It was that I was protecting it from me.
And it never wanted protection in the first place.