The red, white and black jacket hovered mysteriously outside my bedroom window, under the old tree. It had been there for about a week, and it didn't appear to be going anywhere any time soon. By the way, what's black and white, and read all over?
I asked my dad about the jacket, and he told me that it was something I'd just have to get used to.
"But why is it there?"
"It just is, son."
"Have you seen it here before?"
"No, I haven't."
"Doesn't it strike you as sort of... odd?"
"Not really."
Throughout the entire conversation,...
He hung his shirt up on the clothesline before he left. He told me he was going fishing, and I said okay, and gave a bucket with sandwiches wrapped in gingham cloth, and lemonade in a mason jar, and even two chocolate chip cookies. He had the bucket and his pole,and I saw him meet our neighbor down the road, watched them shake hands.
And then I went inside, and knitted another pair of baby booties, and refolded the stacks of little clothes in the dresser. Any day now.
But our neighbor came back later that day alone, and distraught....
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...
All of a sudden, Mary had transformed. She had gone from a reasonably normal looking human woman to a ferocious tiger. She roared. I roared back. Wait, why did I roar? Oh no! I was a tiger as well. Well, this was unfortunate.
Now that we were both tigers, the argument we had been having moments before about who would do the dishes was rendered meaningless. Tigers can't do dishes, because they don't have thumbs. We were also a bit too large for our kitchen. I pushed past tiger Mary to escape the cramped space. Going down the stairs was...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. Of all the times for the bulb to burn out, it had to be right now? The noises were getting closer and closer to Sam's bed. Whatever they were, they weren't human.
Sure, it was most likely just the wind -- or something equally silly. All Sam needed was half a second of light to confirm that theory, and he'd sleep happily. But no, he couldn't have that. Instead all he had was his imagination to build horrific images for every creak and thud he'd heard all night.
He hated the color green, he hated it with all the enamel in his big front teeth. Since he was a tiny woodchuck he was teased mercilessly by his peers because well, he wasn't colorblind like all the rest. He could see the color green...everywhere, everywhere! The anger grew within him against this gift that he called a curse. He just wanted to be like all the other woodchucks living in their happy, ignorant, colorless little worlds. He could never sleep during the day with visions of sugar green fairies dancing in his head. He began taking walks, destroying all...
Bombs were the last thing on his mind. Being late for work was the first. Now he found himself standing ankle deep in snow waiting for dogs to check the building. Bathrobes are not the most winter appropriate clothing. How long could it take to search 16 stories?
This would be the 7th time he was late this month. Waiting tables is not the most demanding way to make a living but you do have to be present to pull it off.
Ok, there was definitely snow melting into his sneaker. No time for socks.
He had keys, he could...
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...
General Hutchison stroked his jaw pensively. "So this - what do you call it?"
"SR-33, sir. The soldier robot, 33rd prototype."
"Took you 33 tries to get it right, huh?"
Mr. Raoul ignored the general's attempt at humor. "You'll find that it's just as capable of understanding and carrying out orders as one of your own men, sir, but its reflexes are faster, its senses are sharper, and it isn't afraid of death."
"Sounds like the perfect soldier, son," Hutchison remarked. "So this SR-33, have there been any of them programming glitches with it?"
"No sir, the operating system has...
There was a knock at the door. It was Theo, the kid from next door. He was only seven. Wearing nothing but blue jean shorts. Scabs on his knees. Feet filthy. Skinny as a broom. Darn kid probably hadn't eaten since Tuesday.
"You busy?" he asks.
"Kinda," I say, and hold up my crocheting.
Theo looks at the ground then back up at me. "Thing is, I'm hungry and I don't know where mom is."
I sigh. This happens all the time. I back up and let Theo march past me into the kitchen. I thought he was going to...