The Rivermen had her boxed in. Two still waited for her at the bottom of the stairwell behind the knockoff Bayeux Tapestry--now ripped to shreds by blades. Two more on either side of this room, this tiny, gaudy bedroom that her mother had spent months decorating. And though she knew at least one of them would come bursting through, knife drawn, she couldn't stop staring.
Katie just loved taking walks downtown. It was such a nice way to get some fresh air. What she didn't like where the people she would meet while walking downtown, so as a general rule she kept to herself.
This particual Saturday morning didn't go that way.
As usual, Katie took her little poodle out for a nice stroll. Her poodle seemed to favor a tree, not to far away from a pay phone.
"A pay phone?" Katie chuckled to herself. "Talk about an outdated object."
As if on cue, the pay phone decided to ring. It startled Katie, and...
I jumped. And immediately regretted it.
The fear stripped me of all the other emotion that had been clouding my judgement. My wife, my children. Their faces all flew through my mind like the frames of a length of film.
"What have I done" I wondered as the air flicked my hair about. Pulling at my clothes as if it wanted to help me and stop my rapidly accelerating decent.
Then there was just disappointment. No sadness, no fear, no anger. Just disappointment. I had always sat on my high horse whenever I heard a story of one committing a...
She always eats oranges in the morning. Awake at 6.30 and out at once to the fruit stall below her window. The sound of the traders' early morning banter is hazy in the grey veil of October dawn and the lines of fruit like a crown of brightly coloured gems awaiting her selection. Two precious oranges in a brown paper bag and back to her third storey apartment. When she slices into the dimpled skin of the orange its juices swell onto the kitchen counter and onto her pale fingers. Her hands are laced with the citrus scent for all...
"Come on, Ben," I pleaded. "Why do you have to do this every time we try to have some family time? You know we hardly ever see each other. It's the holidays, for God's sake."
"There are better ways to celebrate than eating defenseless animals that were cruelly raised and slaughtered on assembly lines," he said firmly.
I snapped. "Oh yeah, Ben, well tell me, just why is it wrong to kill animals? They're not humans, they can't reason like we do. A lot of them are predators too. We need to eat. Why not eat them?"
"Because animals have...
Fault. Always so unclear.
Perhaps the fault was mine. Perhaps I shouldn't have pushed so hard. All I wanted was a taste. Just a glimpse of what she was thinking. Was I really in the wrong for that?
"Look. Just... Tell me what's wrong."
"I don't want to."
Obstinate. Here I am, just trying to figure out what's wrong with her or if she's okay and she doesn't want to share with me.
"You know you can tell me."
"I can't."
"I'm not going to judge you for anything, you know."
A shrug. Too bad, she's saying to me. You...
The window was a lot harder to get open than I expected. I guess they aren’t really designed to be opened, but they do open if you pull hard enough. The air felt good; fresher higher up than on the lower floors. And I could see the cityscape below, half hidden in morning mist. It was going to be a beautiful day.
My office was private, not one of the cubicles most of the employees occupied, like rows of Dilberts enjoying only partial privacy. I had earned my space by bringing in the numbers. I had worked my way up...
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...
Dear Mom,
Do you remember this picture? I do. I remember a lot about those days, when we were a family. Yesterday, I recreated this exact image with my daughter. Tess turned five on Tuesday. She's so excited to start school next month. I'm only scared that other kids will ask her about her family. I don't want to tell her that most of her family didn't want her. I don't want to tell her that Grandma and Grandpa wanted her to disappear.
I have no idea if this letter will make you love my daughter but I want you...
"I am slowly forgetting her here" Dante whispered to himself "I did this for her and I let myself be punished in her place." Dante rubs his cracked and dry hands on the cold stone floors trying to get his mind of the past. "I can't let myself be distracted with things in the past" Dante hissed "I need to remember I'm doing this for her." He starts to hear the guard's footsteps coming towards his cell again. I must not be