The man wrote to the woman down by the river Yo. He had finished in the fields and his brother was calling from the high hill.
"Young!" he screamed "the soldiers are here!"
The man dropped his pen. The notepaper, pink and full of tiny perforations the man had made in the shape of a lotus flower, flew in the direction of a crane's nest. A young bird who was wading blinked at it. Soon, it began to rain.
The soldiers carried out the brother and left behind the others. A girl ran to the river for the pen as...
He had been happier when he was unhappy.
It was difficult to fully explain; his days of being an asocial shut-in were, upon reflection, paradoxically better than his life now. The words had flowed then, from his mind to his keyboard to the story, he could see and imagine vividly what he did not have.
Now, with a college degree, a good job, a new car, a girlfriend and a house in the hills, he was a markedly happier, and thus unhappier, man. He couldn't finish anything he set his mind to. His efforts were as half a page of...
The pistol was cocked, ready to go. Tears falling and falling down Alyssa's face. She had a picture of them together on her lap. She had always felt like running away, this time she was gonna do it. She never felt like the perfect girl, especially not for Tommy. She felt too young to be with him, too old to be told what to do. The bed was made, and she was leaving a crinkle on the comforter where she was sitting. She was praying that she was alone; and that he could just find her later after his 'staff...
Lazy summer days are so much fun. The sun shining down, fresh apples on the trees, dropping down, and soft grass to lie on. Just pure bliss.
I reach into the picnic hamper next to me, and pull out a banana. Peeling it, I look around. No one else is here yet. That just makes things even better. I stuff the banana into my mouth.
It tastes just as good as the day feels.
I hear a shriek behind me. Turning around, I see a pretty young lady, her features pushed out of shape into a look of fear. She...
The Moon would never be the same again. She'd never be able to look at it in the same way, never be able to go back.
Nothing would, actually. Nothing would go back to being the way it was. It had all changed, in ways she didn't fully understand - she never would understand, didn't expect to.
She'd presumed that some things in life were constant. That you could rely on them - tides, stars, earth, and her elder brother.
The tides were changing, sea levels rising. The stars had shifted without her noticing. The earth was meant to be...
He was absent. Again. The kid would only show up on test days - on which he performed well enough. But that wasn't the point. All the other students showed up every day, and worked earnestly. And taught each other. And applied the concepts. He would pass the exams but forget all the material down the road. It would be like most of the bright students - playing with ideas. Treating it all as a show - as a game. Show up to perform. Wasting their talent. Lacking direction. Lacking any real purpose. Where was the kid going to get...
The world was ending. Not in the sense of Deep Impact or Independence Day. No, this wasn't a big budget Hollywood thriller. Simply told, the world was ending because drinking water was drying up, the ozone layer was nearly kaput, and we genetically engineered vitamins out of fruits and vegetables for blemish free skin. The lucky who weren't dropping dead of dehydration were losing their teeth to nutrient deficiency and getting 3rd degree burns from the sun.
Years earlier, NASA had found a planet that might support life and as things became more dire on Earth, they spent more time...
She could tell I was faking it.
Three words. They aren't that hard. I can type the. I love you. Yet they cant be spoken, they stick in the mouth, their bitter flavour tainting the tongue Not even force can bring them out and if managed, well then it would just be plain ugly wouldn’t it? Yet why do people struggle to say those words? Why do I? I can type it all I want, I love you, I love you and so on, but here it’s meaningless, nothing matters as it comes from my fingers to the screen. I...
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Harry had taught her well. Any failings during the performance would be entirely her fault, but she wasn't worried.
Harry had taught her well.
She felt her hair drift about her head like a mermaids veil, her garments float on the current like a breeze, and the gaze of her lover as she fished for the key.
Harry had taught her well.
She'd concealed the key just as she'd concealed her knowledge of his affair. Not to be outdone, the student became the master of deception in...
I walked down the street with my pants around my ankles, arms akimbo, doing the Super Bowl Shuffle with a boombox wrapped around my ears. I had picked up 20 D batteries at the store, and if I was going to do something, I was going to do it right.
With the screaming vocals of Ronnie James Dio blaring from two overworked speakers, I strutted along the Santa Monica Pier. Rather, I did the Penguin Push all down the boardwalk. It was times like these when I was proud to say that I could rock out with my cock out....