Fred wanted the puppets. He wanted all the puppets, man. If Fred couldn't have puppets, he'd be a miserable SOB. All he could ever think about was puppets. He wore his socks on his hands. That's how much he loved puppets.
So when he saw the Punch and Judy set on ebay, he knew he had to act. Problem was: Sylvester Stallone was coming over for lunch. He'd slaved for hours over the meal (pickles on rye bread. And figs.) He wanted to impress Sylvester Stallone with stories of how he rubbed Cheez Whiz into the hair of his buttocks,...
She was a girl, he was a guy. She was beautiful and he praised the ground that she walked on. He couldn't stop thinking about her. The only way he would be able to fall asleep at night is with thoughts of her laying beside him whispering in his ear "everything will be alright".
She does not exist.
Instead he lays awake, not thinking of anyone. He thinks of death and of not-existing anymore. He cannot sleep because only in sleep does death occur. He doesn't want to die, but he has no reason to live.
Motivation to live has...
The water crashes onto our feet. His hand lets go of mine as he turns away from me. He tells me he can't let me do this. I just shake his thoughts away. If you loved me you'd stay with me. I look at him and smile. He was really remarkable. I sweep away the hair that had fallen into his eyes. Our lips embrace for the last time. He tries to hold on to me but I push him away. I walk into the water as the waves takes me under.It's colder then I imagine. I can hear his...
You could use a little direction, said Junie to Sam.
They were sitting cross-legged in the wood chips on the playground. Junie was wearing a polka-dotted skirt, and she spread it over her knees, aware that her Hanes-covered little bottom was unprotected from the dirt.
It was something she heard once, from mother.
Sam said nothing. He was dumping wood chips into his lap with his fists, wanting it all. Making a pond and filling it up.
Sure, said Sam, through his spitty little teeth. He pointed to the South.
Don't you see?
He jumped, I jumped. She sto
"Lorenzo, no!" King Tremain howled, his eyes blazing with the flames of anger and betrayal.
Lorenzo, a traitor to his superior acquaintance, wielded the gleaming sword, it's sharp edges threating to destroy the feeble man who lay before it.
Despite the cries of sheer terror that penetrated the air of the castle dining room, Lorenzo's mind failed to subvert its attention from anything but his original goal. 'Overthrow the king'.
He swiftly raised the shining blade above his head and in one final burst of adrenaline, Lorenzo brought it downwards, wholeheartedly piercing the King who lay helplessly
I looked through my photo album, my fingers flipping the pages quickly, as I looked for that one photo.
There it was, towards the back.
I stopped and smiled.
I could still hear my voice demanding to have this photograph taken.
A woman stood to my right. Her smile shining with pride as her hand held mine. She had always been there for me. Almost as far back as I could remember now. I often thought of her as the source of my conscience because she always seemed to give advice that pointed to the moral north, but at the...
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...
Hats. Of every shape and size. I love them all. You may call me crazy, or you may not. I love them all, of every color and make. I make some, I find others. I keep them all by my side, and drink my tea as I study them. Who am I you ask? Some strange Hatter? Well to be more precise i'm a MAD Hatter. Yes that's correct. I am a bit mad, but who isn't? Hats just so happen to catch my fancy, and I love to make them. I also collect them. I can find you a...
There was a party in the upstairs of the building. On the roof. It was my building too. I had lived there for many years. Paying rent, not having a pet (not allowed), putting up with all the noise and rubbish in the hallways and out. There was a lot of nastiness, to be sure, but it was my home. Come to find out, its the building's owners giving the party. A corporate landlord business that aims to put themselves first and the people trying to live in their wasted spaces last. The party was buzzing, I could hear the...
"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...