She was the most delicate girl in town. I liked to think of her as something made out of matchsticks, and knobby joints. Her voice, it never seemed to mature, even as she stretched into a teenager, and curves set in, she would still skitter on her toes, and wring her hands, and never make eye contact.
The crush I developed on her was no not so unusual, I think the whole town was in love with her in their own way, male, female, child, animal. Girls like that aren't meant to last if you think about it. Those quiet...
there once was a blank it attacked a man who had no hair. he was a very kind man but nobody could see hi. there are full of mysters in this world that nobody really knows. there was a dragon who attacked kenna boyer then kyle came to rescue her and they got married and babies. then lee Kamp got a divorce with his lady and married kyle and kenna was lonely. then kenna got together with a pink donkey his name was jimbo he loved to make shaped with hands and his feet were as brights as a hipopotimus...
Words like knives, thrown back and forth across the room, like a death-defying circus act.
Husband and wife tossing sharp insults, from the couch to the kitchen doorway. Neither landing anything deep, glancing wounds, already scraping scarred tissue.
Neither really feels anything for the other anymore. But the dance, the battle, the contest keeps them together. Light reflects of the blades as they flip and fly.
Thud into walls. Plink against the floors. Bounce of their scaly armour of experience, disdain and dull hate. It aches in their bellies. They think it might offer some release, against the mounting pressure....
The birds had not come in last night and now they would be lost.
Common birds! She spat twirling a small gold spoon in her coffee clattering nervously on the edge of the doll like cup.
So long years of sorrow, so long back breaking toil. The training, the binding of tiny claws the midnight dropper feedings. All of it for nothing. Now they would peck at trash and pretend to get excited when they heard the fog horns of a garbage trawl.
Why do I bother? She picked a tiny scar at the corner of her mouth and drank...
The red gown was more of a crimson really. I wasn't sure why she had taken it just to sit down at a doorway just down the street. She had shown up with enough money for a new garment, I'd given it to her and she'd just sort of walked aimlessly down to the doorway and sat down.
It kind of made me hate her. I know you shouldn't hate little girls but I hated this bullshit. I mean, seriously, just leave. Don't make me sit there and wonder about what the fuck is going on. Like, I don't need...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. The rain was falling around her and she looked out into the street, wondering when she should make her break for it. Sensing that the rain wouldn't let up for quiet some time, she dashed onto the streets holding her package close to her chest. Her eyes flitted from side to side as she transversed the narrow streets and alleys.
She saw the blue door ahead of her and pumped her legs harder, eager to reach her destination. She threw herself against the door with a...
"Travel light."
"But take everything with you."
A murmur of confusion ran across the gathered crowd.
"That will only slow us down!" The young man who had been such a cool head through all of their troubles spoke firmly, with an authority far greater than his age would normally have allowed.
"We can't allow them to find anything which they could use against us." The town drunk retaliated. Or at least, that was all he had been, until the shadow began to cross the land and the war drums had begun to beat once more, since then, he had been...
I heard it again. "It's hell getting old! One, to say this is to show total disregard to the countless lives cut short never having the opportunity to experience all life has to offer living to an old age. Two, to say this is to show little or no realization that a lifelong of memories can only be gathered living to an old age. That's no hell to me. I will savor every moment. It sure beats the alternative.
"The flight was agonizingly long, and that was the positive part of the experience.We had reserved a cab a week before, because we didn't want to drive out there and then try to find parking."
"I could have found a spot."
"Ignore him, he's convinced he a dowsing rod of available parking. Anyway, we had made a reservation for six a.m. At a quarter to seven a car screams to a stop in the driveway. You can still see the skidmarks. We were so angry."
"You were angry. I never even wanted to go."
"I told you to ignore him....
£18000. That's all it would take. But it was more than Charles had, that was certain. He gazed in wonder at that glossy, dog-eared magazine page. Awe, even. He had been looking at that same page every morning for the past fourteen years and with a sigh he would fold the mag shut and let it sit on his lap and lean his head back and rock. The rocking chair had belonged to his father. That was the only thing of his father's that he ever got. The cancer got him, a few years earlier. The rest of the family...