She followed the footsteps that wound through the snow; the clouds that brushed across the moon's face alternately limning and hiding them. A shudder rippled through her as the wind bit deep and the faint trail of her steady breath formed and faded behind her. At the edge of the trees, she halted and focused intently on the figure crouched in the center of the clearing. Arms wrapped tightly around his knees and his head bent, not a flicker of movement betrayed him.
She unzipped her jacked and tugged off her gloves, letting them fall to the ground. The soft...
It was a pleasure to burn.
All things, it was.
Paper. Incense. Even skin.
Yes, especially skin.
They all had particular smells- those things which he burned. Paper smelled of ash and dried, hot trees, as in the desert, the heat so thick and juicy you could drink it, pour it inside of you, fill yourself with warmth in a way which standing in front of a fire, rubbing your hands together did not even thouch.
Incense- he supposed it ought to be different, depending on the smell. He only ever bought sandalwood, nothing else and so he didn't...
Long after the fireworks, Katie was returning form the lake side. It wasn't a long walk back to her home. She walk along the road. She was passing a house the paint a yellowed white, this was her boyfriend's house she stood there, and began to remember the the happy time she had with him, and as she remember all the good a phone rang, then the sound of a crying woman, she realized it was her voice.
They gathered in the woods. Huddled together, shoulders pressed against each other for warm and support and that deep basic desire for some sort of human contact.
"It's good to see you again John," an unclean, wirey man nodded to his fellow and they clapsed hands.
"You too. Have you news?"
"None. There hasn't been much activity the past month." The man nodded grimly as he listened.
"One of our nests got hit, we lost a few, but the rest of us are fine."
"How about the rest of you?" The other members of the circle, three men and one...
Travel light, but take everything with you. Words that my grandmother used to say in wisdom. And words that I've never take to heart till now. The twister ripped though our neighborhood and everything I owned was taken with it. My Children and wife stand now where our Kitchen was. With a heavy sigh, I remember those words my Grandmother used to say, I truly have all I need standing in the kitchen.
"Hoist the Jolly Roger, wouldn't you, old chap?"
"Righto, Cap'n," said Lieutenant Chapman. "I say, what shall we do with these old colors?"
"Tear them up, burn them, whatever."
"Cap'n, phone for you, sir," said a young deckhand.
"Ah, thank you, there's a good lad," the Captain took the phone with easy sangfroid. He listened to it for a moment before saying, "that's right, old chap, we're defecting."
"Lost my mind? Bloody well found it, sir. No pay and no shore leave? It's enough to make pirates of anyone, if I do say so meself!"
The ship began to drift...
Hugging her knees, Tanya stifled another sob. Her face felt swollen and sore, yet numb from the pain. Sitting in the pitch black, the only light coming from the oven which was still humming beside her. The lasagna she had been making for tea splashed across the floor and up the walls.
She could hear Tim banging upstairs, the slamming of cabinets in the bathroom as he got changed. He couldn't go to the pub with blood on his shirt, could he?
Tanya knew she would have to clear up the mess at some point, but for now she was...
She bent down to tie her shoe as the sun was setting. The reflection of the pinkish-yellow ball was right in front of her at the edge of the lake. The pebbles beneath her feet were wet and smooth. The umbrella she brought with her, still resting on her beach towel by the tree.
With many thoughts in her head, Chelsea folded up her umbrella and tucked it beneath her arm, rolling up her damp towel and stuffing her towel into her drawstring bag.
Today was a good day, she thought. She could get through this day. Days at the...
It wasn't one of those baby swings, with a back and leg holes, safe and sturdy; it was a real swing and he had no idea how to make it move.
"Move your legs," said Daddy. "Forward and back, just like that, forward and back."
It felt like the swing was starting to move. Not much rhythm, yet. The light grey sky didn't do much to encourage, and he looked back, hoping for a push like usual.
A few minutes later and he was soaring, smile as wide as the arc the swing made from apex to apex - velcro-laced...
I just stepped off the train, and the heat is unbearable. Before I left my apartment, it was already at 90. That was at 5:45 this morning.
Now, it is the end of the day, and I am stopping to grab a drink with a friend. They are visiting the city, so I have meet them up in a place I normally don't go to. Well, except for work.
The heat is so intense, taking the train was easier than walking. I would normally walk but this would have been too much of an exercise.
Michael Phelps would have been...