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...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. The bed felt heavy on the other side. A draft of warm and slobbery air was on his neck. He flicked and flicked the switch, and failing and rubbing his finger raw he leapt out of the bed and ran to the wall. The lights coming on, the room appearing all at once its sterile, diseased-yellow look. The covers tousled, pillows strewn, the light greyish-yellow stain like a teardrop on the wall behind the simple wrought-iron headboard.
Panting now, hand clasped tight on the switchplate, and wits coming back only like a smoldering fire. There...
Det kom en dag i hodet på meg. Og jeg så det aldri før enn da. Det var noe som hadde hengt over meg i lengre tid. Jeg visste det var på tide å snu. Jeg visste at jeg en dag ville jeg angre og en dag ville det hele virke meningsløst. Jeg så aldri tilbake. Men nå skulle jeg endelig snu. Det skulle bli min tur å være den gode, jeg er lei av å være den som alltid må gi - jeg trenger å få noe jeg også. Jeg trenger nærhet. Jeg trenger varme. Jeg trenger en som...
"Birds are terrifying because they used to be dinosaurs and they are just waiting for us humans to stop remembering that fact. Waiting for us to turn our back. And then, just when we think we're safe, BAAAAMMM! All those cute little sparrows and robins and doves turn into raptors and shit - but now they can fly too, so there is nowhere safe. Seagullsaurus will shit on us and then swoop down and gobble us up as we stand there, freaking out about getting shat on.
"Imagine all the pigeons in cities growing razor sharp fangs and an unquenchable...
It approached. Well, as much as the end can be said to approach, as opposed to us approaching it. The great beast, that stalking horse of the apocalypse, with massive paws that looked like human hands, a lion's head with a mane of fire, and the body of a wolf.
The great hunter Talianto was selected from all people to confront this end. Of all people her spear flew the straightest, her blade cut sharpest and cleanest. If there was any hope of defeating such a monstrosity, of doomsday that moved in shadow and swished a spiked tail clearing all...
The results were in, and despite it all, she didn't want to know.
She didn't want to be told. She didn't want anyone else to know. She'd fought for these tests, fought to receive the results, and now they were in her hands...
"You're not going to open them, are you?"
He had known all along that she wouldn't do it - she realised it now. He knew her far too well. She placed the envelope delicately onto the table, and took his hands instead.
"I'm not ready to know, not yet. I've had so long getting used to the...
"Ohh..." The word escaped my lips as a awe-struck sigh. The island was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my entire life. Bulky, mountain-like rocks dotted with dark green trees, surrounded by white sand, and water the color of the clearest, bluest sapphire imaginable. As we flew nearer to it the air became sweet and clear and filled my lungs. The breeze rustled my short brown hair. I tucked myself into a ball and executed a perfect mid-air summer-salt. I watched as the water came closer and closer. This place, I could tell, was magic.
I am not the hero of this story
I have abdicated my own starring role
I will live with that
or otherwise
I have chosen a poor teacher
or I have not made a choice
and that is the worst kind of choosing
She is not the villain of the story
I release her
bye
bye
become what you must, teacher, villain, muse
This is not a test
but I will take it
and pass it
with abandon and lust and glee
But it will not make me a hero
It will make me me
Pixie dust. I didn't think it existed before now. Until I experienced it firsthand. I had floated a few feet above the ground, spinning and whirling. Everything was different now. And beautiful. It shimmers and looks like gold sparkles. But it's not, it's so much more special. Fairies are real. Pixie dust is real. Take a closer look around you, you'll see it too.
The cover image for the book was not exactly what she had envisioned. Then again neither was the book really. But she was published, that's what mattered right? True she had used a pen name, but she knew the book was hers. The words on the pages her doing (well most of them anyway). But that image. It really didn't have all that much to do with the story in the book. Would people be disappointed when they read it? Would it make it more buyable as the publisher claimed. Well it was out of her hands. Thank God she...