"It was a cold and stormy night..." I read as I began to read another mystery novel. A lot of stories begin with this phrase/description of the scenery. Whenever I read it, I don't imagine something bad is going to happen because I have read it many times. But rather, if the opening scene was to describe a more creative and original scene I may be more interested. These are the thoughts that roam through my head as I try to do the reading assignment for my high school literary class. It's impossible to focus when you cannot read through...
"I'm sorry." I dropped everything I was holding, and sat on the ground. Why did everything I love, fall through the spaces between my fingers like it was nothing. My kitchen floor felt cool, and I scratched my fingers across the tile, my stomach was beginning to feel sick. This had all moved too quickly, so I got up and sprinted to the bathroom. I thought I would vomit immediately, but it wasn't until I flashed back to every word people had said about where he had been, that made me release everything in my stomach. I didn't want to...
In these parts, they could not afford trains. Instead, they strapped the Jews and leftists and gypsies and cripples and social undesirables onto sleds on the back of a Volkswagen and hauled them to the camp, which was really a slapdash cardboard affair. The guards were lazy and disinterested. They really didn't see a point in the whole thing, but they did their jobs nevertheless, smoking cigarettes with the more gregarious prisoners. They resented the prisoners and beat them - After all, they thought, why should I have to waste my life standing around guarding these people that the Reich...
She didn't look at him.
"So that's my answer, is it?" He stared at her, hoping, praying for - well, anything. Any kind of response. A show of emotion.
She didn't look at him.
"Fine. If - if that's how it is, if that's - fine." He wanted the weight to lift from his shoulders, now that he knew the truth, he wanted something to happen, some kind of change - he wanted to feel something.
There was nothing. He was numb. He wasn't even angry, he just felt cold.
"So I'll be going then."
Her back was to him...
"Because the game is all that matters, Father."
"I like to think it is my company that matters, my child."
A fire could be seen blazing in her eyes. He knew not to call her that. He knew better.
"I am not your child."
"All of you are, Lucifer, but your pride always stopped you from seeing that."
"My pride? It was my pride?"
The old man shook his head in affirmation.
"Father, your pride is what caste us from this place. You wanted to make room for these beings. So they could do what? Slaughter each other? Care only...
"I hope he gets it - thanks Alex, talk soon." Keri hung up the phone, and I hoped I did the right thing. Keri and I were together off-and-on for 4 years or so. She loved me, I knew that. Not until after I broke promises and left her alone, only for her to be so hurt she went to be with my brother, who hurt her even more.
I haven't spoken to Keri since the time I promised her I'd take a Greyhound to visit her in Niagara Falls, and I didn't go and she never forgave me. That...
Gradually, the ankle will become the hip, the hip will become the shoulder, because the parts become the whole.
The whole joins to other wholes becoming greater wholes.
Gradually, everything will unconnect, unbecome because of something somebody wrote down in his notebook. As then, gradually, we will reconnect and rebecome.
Gradually, you will realize everything is in your mind and nothing that happens ever happens
She gritted her teeth and walked slowly down the hall to the room where he was sitting. She'd have prefered the electric chair. Facing him would be one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She walked into the room and he looked up from the book he was reading, a pleasant smile and kind eyes.
"Hey sweetheart."
"Honey, I have something to tell you." She could feel the tention in her chest growing as she spoke. Her words were slow, measured, and careful.
"Yeah?" The question was so innocent, so naive. He had no idea what she was about...
The old lady was in real trouble now. She did not feel the grey touch of the dark hand as it stroked her wrinkled face, marking her. It would come for her soon, the looming shadow of time, and there was nothing she could do but grow older and weaker. She sat in the back of a black car, and her destination was the foundations of the departed. Accompanying her was her sister, wearing the same black dress. Everything was the colour black today. It was the symbolic colour; the colour of the dark one. The lead weight of a...
It was the fall that surprised me most. I struggled through winter, reeling at the news that I was going to die. That I wasn’t going to see another Christmas after this one, that I had less than a year – maybe six months, although they couldn’t be sure.
And I tried my best, but that last Christmas was a dismal affair. I wanted it to be perfect, and in wanting that I asked for too much. No other Christmas had been perfect – but they had been wonderful. And I went and ruined my last one by organising, instructing,...