There were two hot girls at the side of the bar. I walked up to them.
"Hi," I said. "My name is Patrick and I do not want to get laid."
"That is very admirable," one of the girls said. "Especially since I chose this dress because it shows off my ample breasts."
"Both of us are ovulating," the other girl said. "That means that our bodies want babies even though we, as social creatures, have no desire to be mothers at this exact moment."
"It is a good thing I have no desire to father children with you," I...
Savouring words was a joy to him. Illiterate for many years; he learnt to read and write late in life. His appreciation grew from prose to poetry to haiku. Others laughed that he swallowed a dictionary. He did not understand the derision. Loving words, enabling communication beyond speech seemed to him a peerless gift.
Then he discovered etymology. Suddenly connections between ancient languages and modern English brought a deepening joy and fruitful satisfaction beyond any other pursuit he followed. When some spoke he understood unusual words and could name the orinating language;
She was the most delicate girl in town - pale skin stretched tight over a skeletal face, hair the colour of fresh milk, body tall and angular. Her eyes were of the softest blue, her cheeks flushed pastel pink, her lips like an English rose. Fragile, barely there, more ghost than anything real: that's what people said about her, that's what they thought when they passed her in the street. But as delicate as she was, as insubstantial, there was something very real and present in the way that she held herself and in the manner of her walk. One...
Wine makes you drunk if you drink too much. I like wine. Its like grape juice with alcohol. They should put it in juice packs and give it to adults. If you drink wine while your pregnant, then your baby will get messed up and look like a raisin. i like raisins. they are grapes that got old and they got shriveled up, like my uncle. He drank too much wine and got messed up. My mother doesn't drink wine anymore. It kills you slowly.
Jayne was glad to escape the chemical smell of the dentists surgery. She held her little brothers hand tight as he continued to sob. He hated it more. Their father strode in front, an unusual occurence. Mum hadn't been able to get the time off work so dad had been forced to take the time of drinking and take them.
Now, as mum had promised, they made their way to the Albion Cinema to see bambi. Jaynes stomach was knotted in sheer excitement and little David soon ceased his whining as they neared the entrance.
But soon Dad was arguing...
I saw the thing. It was preserved in the glass case, the only one of its kind. So faithfully had the curators touched it, applied the special fluids, made sure that never again, never again would it be forgotten. It had been once before, after all. After all, memory is a sieve. And this was memory itself. It shouldn't have been forgotten.
I can't remember the thing itself especially now. I suppose that's expected. My memory's not special in anyway, no, not at all. It doesn't matter, anyways, just that it was a record, so that people wouldn't forget, wouldn't...
Woof woof. Woof woof woof woof woof. Woof. Bark woof. Woof. Woof woof woof. Bark bark woof bark. Woof.
about 6 years ago, at the time I firstly thought about study in UK. So I prepare the ielts in Shanghai. When I finished the english lessons, I went to cafe shop, listened a violinist's music and saw a cat sleep their, it was very peaceful. however I thought my goal about pass the ielts, I decided to be a hero in my english learning. in the end, i had a dream, I enjoyed a desert island concert.
You can count me out. I'm over it. Through with you, done with everything....That's a lie. Count me in, it's about time, right? Six years is long enough to be apart. I've waited for this; you, maybe not. Either way, the date's approaching. Count me out, though, it might be a bad decision. No...count me in, I can't wait to see you. Remember that summer? Remember that WINTER? No, no, I can't see you, count me out. Count me in, count me out, I can't decide one way or the other. No, for sure, count me in, what am I...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. But was pushed away, rudely by a tall man. He walked in, I had seen him before. Years younger. The features were still the same. He walked straight for me, not hesitating. Called to me: "Jacob.". The voice too was familiar but different somehow. His eyes were my father's, the nose too. But it was not him, nor was it my brother.
He talked fast: "I have to prove something."
I didn't know how to reply, I couldn't place him. That face, I felt if I...