The ice road stretched in an endless arc ahead of them, spiralling and curving amongst the tall pine trees like a child's marble run which had been exquisitely crafted out of snow. The sun was barely able to climb higher than the trees at this time of day, and she felt a shiver as the heater in the old car battled the sub-zero temperatures in mid-January here in the North. Her hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly as she concentrated on getting to the hospital safely, hoping against hope that she would be in time to bid her old...
Gradually she made her way to the edge of the shore, looked out to sea and watched the waves as they soared and fell and smashed together in front of her. It was peaceful, despite the noise. She breathed in, grabbing as much salty air as she could each time, then let it go in a long, contented stream.
When she turned, she noticed she was no longer alone. A man had appeared, walking his dog, a black Labrador, beach. She waved, but the man ignored her. Her mood fell slightly. Rude, she thought, and there was never any need...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
Love Alisha
Tyler read the note his girlfriend had left tacked to the corkboard in the kitchen. "Fucking crazy cunt," he said to the empty apartment.
2070 grains of rice. For six people. To last six weeks.
Less than 60 grains of rice per week.
No water too cook it with. All the water is too polluted.
We don't even have canned beans anymore.
What if you were one of these six people?
Maybe you could save your brother, child, or friend by sacrificing your own life.
Would they eat you??
Maybe, but at least you would no longer feel the pain of your body slowly eating itself.
Would you really be saving your family, your friends?
After all, there is no guarantee of another 2700...
The year was 1986. She was five and happy. But she did not want to be six. There was something about six that scared her, put her on edge, made her think of grown up things like losing teeth and moving up to the next class with the mean teacher who didn’t allow her pupils to laugh during lessons.
So she came up with a plan to hide. She took her favourite toys (she was five, after all) and a little food and a carton of juice and crawled into the loft where no one ever went. There was nothing...
My head was pounding, I had too much at the bar during intermission. The lights go up, and that annoying guy, what's his name, is back at the podium.
"Welcome back everyone."
What was his name
"We are going to continue with the awards, and this one is nothing short of honorable."
I have worked with him for years. Carl? Steve? Mike? Fuck.
"And now we are going to give out the award for our employee of the year. This is nothing we take lightly, and we would like to thank all of our employees for the work they do...
My feet ached, but it was well worth it. I stood in front of the house, my chest heaving with the effort of my panting. Oxygen could not come to me quickly enough, and yet, I kept sighing, wanting to prepare myself for this moment. I slowly walked up to the door, biting my lip. Should I knock? Should I wait for someone to show up? I looked around-- there was a car nearby. I hurriedly brushed the tears from my face and peeked inside the window. I couldn't see anyone inside. Perhaps now would be the best time. Right...
Three Chances. Two Donors. One Hope.
December 4th. Today is the third anniversary of your first bone marrow transplant. Did I actually say “first transplant”? Who in the hell has another one? It is still hard for me to imagine that you did. What parent walks around carrying those things in their memories?
You had such an amazing donor. He gave you six months of good health and a year of life. He must have been so brave and selfless to give you such a gift. I wish that I could thank him in person. But that would never happen...
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...
He walked back, the small rocks crunching under his feet and the lips of fish sucking to his fingers, as if they were still alive and able to do even that most simple of things. It was a daily walk, and one he was quite accustomed to. It was a monotonous job, there are only so many times you can make the same three mile journey before you start to get bored of even the most beautiful trees and streams. Of course, he may have been able to appreciate them longer if they hadn't been cut down and irrigated away,...