"There's a deer in the hallway!" yelled sixth-grader Emily Sagashi as she opened the door to the fourth graders' classroom.
As a mass, the students threw themselves at the door. Stumbling into the hall, they clamored, "Where is it? Where?" But Emily had already ran down the stairs. Now she could be heard yelling the same thing to the third graders.
Normally the teachers would gather the students back inside, but the promise of a wild animal storming the halls was such a surprise, and so unusual, that the students took off in every direction. All Emily had said was...
Just put it away, I don't want to play.
Come on.
Not now.
Come on, we're just sitting here waiting. You know it'll take forever for them to get back to us.
Okay, fine.
All right, who invented the hot air balloon?
I did.
No, the Montgolfier Brothers.
Well...
Listen, if you're gonna answer "me" for every question, it's not gonna be fun.
It's not fun.
You're a real drag.
I'm just having an off day. Let's sit in silence.
Let's try another question.
Fine.
What is next week's winning lottery number?
That's it. I've got to go.
Oh, come...
"Wait, so he hit you?"
She hadn't meant to let it slip. She'd done so well hiding the cause behind the bruise on her cheekbone for the past few hours, passing it off as nothing. She couldn't even remember what she'd said that had revealed the truth... something about getting into a fight over something stupid. Shannon had put two and two together and, well, there was no denying it now.
Lacey waved a hand through the air, discarding it as if it was nothing. "He didn't mean to," she sighed, turning to the mirror to examine the extent of...
I am spinning out of control and I love it. I want to hear it break, to show them that I don't have to fit into their mold. I hurl the glass at the wall in front of me and it shatters, sending little, sparkling shards across the floor with a pretty, extremely satisfing tinkling sound. In a daze, I sit there and stare at the glass on the floor. My chest feels light and my head is spinning. I am free to be me. To live my own life, my own way. The can tell me where to live,...
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...
"Goodnight..." My baby sleeps in my arms, her little hands balled up into tiny fists.
"Goodnight..." My baby lays in bed with her pigtails loose and her pajama's too small.
"Goodnight..." My baby dances and twirls herself to her room; dancing on air and blinded by love.
"Goodnight..." My baby waves from the car as they drive away, her white dress shining like the tears in my eyes.
"Goodnight..." My baby rocks her baby to sleep and I smile.
"Goodnight..." My baby kisses my hand and I drift away.
Hats. I hate wearing hats. They leave that weird mark in your hair and make your forehead sweaty. Ugh, and the way winter hats make your ears itch; unbearable! Baseball hats are okay - looking on guys, but I'm more into helmets. You won't get me to wear either, still, they call it hat hair, and helmet head for a reason. Who ever invented the hat anyway? I get the concept of keeping your head warm, but hoods do that job just fine, and don't make your hair flat or itch your ears, or make your head funny-shaped. I get...
"I know you're up there," she screamed against the roar of waves crashing on the rocks. "And I know you can hear me. We have to talk, please come down."
A tugboat groaned out in the bay, and the gulls squawked overhead.
"It's bright enough today, you don't need to be up there.Please come down."
The wind whistled.
"Fine. Be that way. Make me stand down here and yell. I don't care. Actually, this is the perfect metaphor for our relationship. Me down here trying to talk to you and you boarded up in your useless tower. You think you...
I found the small book when we had to pack Grandpa's things so he could move out of that old house, and into an old people's apartment building. Mom said it would be better for him there, people could watch him and take care of him. Better care than she could, she said.
I said I could do it, but she said I had to go to school, and I never even walked the dog before he went to live on that farm we see on the side of the highway between our house and Grandpa's.So how could I expect...
"You know," Clark said, in-between rising above the water to take breaths as he swam. "I really hate you."
John shrugged; or, at least, performed as much as a shrug as you can while swimming. "I don't see why."
"What do you mean, you don't see why?"
"We're doing what I said we'd do, right? Go for a swim together. You were all uppity about the whole thing, so I challenged you to do one length of the pool with me. Well, here we are, doing one length."
"Yes, but you didn't tell me that we were going to be...