She opened the envelope and screamed. Sweepstakes? Her? She never dreamed it could happen, but there it was, after countless magazine subscriptions to periodicals she never intended to read: Guns and Ammo, Creative Quilting, Fantasy Football Insider. Piles of these damned things lined the hallways and rooms of her small, two-bedroom house.
She didn't intend to read the magazines, but at the same time, she couldn't part with them, just in case, just in case one day she could sell them or donate them or look something up in one of them that might, just might be of some importance...
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...
It was my day.
Walking down that aisle, feeling the silence of everyone around me - surprised, shocked, the girl scrubs up well. She's beautiful, and we barely realised. We barely noticed.
Well, he did. And that is what matters.
The whispers began when I got to the front, taking up my rightful place, smiling out at everyone from beneath the veil. I wasn't wearing white - well, it wasn't white anymore - but does that really matter these days? Who marries innocent? Who's really pure these days? Impossible.
Of course she was there. Her. That one.
She was wearing...
Once upon a time in a bright, little forrest,
there were three Elves named Jimmie, Bob and Horace.
Jimmie was an arsonist, Bob was a drug lord,
and Horace killed hookers with an old VCR-cord.
They went into prison but just now they broke out,
"Each take a hostage and run to the river!", Bob shouts.
They stole a get-a-way boat to cross the stream,
when Bob decided to work against the team.
He killed two hostages and shot Jimmie in the leg,
So Horace had to put a bullet in Bob's head.
"My leg hurts like a bitch!", Jimmie...
I have anxiety issues okay? I swear every time I come here its the same goddamn thing. All I need is to walk, so I approach the edge and give myself a minuscule pep-talk. "You can do it George, just a couple of steps", every day its the same thing and everyday.. I chicken out. I know, I know, ha.ha. very funny but this is a serious problem! How am I supposed to go anywhere in my short life when I literally can't go anywhere. Every time I approach that curb, the cars seeming to fly by, horns honking and...
Once, in Beijing, you were there. You were here. Doorway. Phone. Stammer.
She clutched round her that red gown, shawl over shoulders, and stood. Stands?
I am across the street, with you. Table. Café. On the table: phone, keys, change. Two glasses.
One and a half minutes ago, I hit "record" on the phone and slid the phone toward you. Between you and me.
You cleared your throat, and said:
Once, in Beijing, you were there. A young girl, a gown too big. You saw a couple across the street. One older, thin, thin-lipped, a look of resignation. One younger,...
I lost my grip on te wheel. The snow on my windshield was blinding. The ice beneath my tires made my car skid into the guardrail in a sort of slow motion. I could see the front of my car hitting the railing and the hood folding back up toward me. The lights shattered and white and yellow fragments came flying up toward my windshield. The airbags inflated, slow motion, hitting my face, making my head turn sideways. My iPhone flew out of my hand and hit the passenger side window, then slammed to the floor. My dog, Erin, screeched...
I don't want to hurt you.
I want to hurt. At least then I'll feel something. I can't go back to being numb like that again. I felt so, so dead.
Does that mean you feel alive now?
Like you wouldn't believe. Just being with you wakes me up.
Oh, really?
Please don't leave me. I can't go back.
I can't stay.
If you leave, I'll die again!
"The year is 2070. The girl you see is your granddaughter." The computer hummed and buzzed as it began to clue me in on what - or who, I was watching. I could hardly believe it. It was almost surreal to see. I mean, I was 14 and could scarcely imagine knowing my granddaughter but, there she was. Kia Nicole. I could see my eyes and my smile on her face and quite abit of my father's features were evident in her as well. She was sitting at a the dining room table that my parents had bought and she...
This dream was better than waking.
In this dream, she lay next to him, fingers entwined talking about school, family, tv shows, the universe - they were creating inside jokes, they were getting to know each other and they were having fun.
In reality, she was hours away from him.
In this dream, he smiled at her and reached for her hand.
In reality, he had avoided making physical contact, eye contact, even making contact via phone.
In this dream, they fell into each other and fit perfectly.
In reality, the jigsaw pieces felt scattered and she had no idea...