The sound reverberated through the streets. The sound regenerated through the beets. The sound remunerated above the seats.
Then, the sound transubstantiated inside William Butler Yeats, who became a poet.
The sound instantiated outside the session scope, ultimately causing a null pointer exception. The sound invigorated the soccer players and re-elasticized their cleats.
The sound was of a kitten who had received some treats.
I don't know what the hell this is. I think I'm having an off day.
Marvin knew that he had to return the salad dressing. Last night, it started screaming at him. "BRING ME DWARVES!" it yelled. Strange, since as far as Marvin knew, salad dressing does not have vocal cords.
So he put the salad dressing in a baggie and threw it in the back of his backpack. He could hear the salad dressing yelling. "I HATE THE DARK AND I HATE THE WARMTH!!! THIS IS WORSE THAN THE FRIDGE! THAT WAS DARK BUT AT LEAST IT WAS COLD!!!"
Down the stairs Marvin ran. As he pushed his way out the door, he ran...
The audience stared open mouthed at me. I sat motionless for a moment, lost in the dazzle of it all. The lights, the people, I had never sang in front of so many people before. I sang a long song, filled with passion, and sang it like I was starving to sing. After I had finished, there was not a sound in the theatre. You could have heard a pin drop. As I sat still, I grew more anxious by the second. Until finally I saw a lone figure in the back, slowly rise and clap. The clap was slow,...
The day after tomorrow, this will be all over. The waiting, the anxiety, the impatience will end. I have paced my room nearly every minute of every day, waiting...waiting. But, it will soon be all over.
I cannot imagine how I will feel. Will it be like the first time, or even the second? I highly doubt it. The first was special, sent a tingle up and down me when it arrived. The second was nearly as powerful, but still less so.
So, it wan't be like that. But, I still cannot wait.
I have He-Man and Battlecat.
I have...
When I see these flowers, and this man standing here (that's me, by the way), and I see all the men with guns walking behind me, I'm supposed to say that the flowers remind me of a lady. I'm supposed to taste the dust in my mouth, remember my comrades who gave their lives, understand the difference between pride and loyalty, duty and identity.
Mostly, I remember not knowing where I stood with any of these things; thinking that this was the process to figuring it out.
We're all figuring it out, aren't we? To know where you stand is...
My eyes were tired; I rolled over in my bed, and stared briefly at the moon.
I turned back to face my fan; the 90-degree summer heat only dropped to 78 overnight, enough to make me sleep in shorts and a tank top.
My phone buzzed and lit-up its orangy color. Message from: Alex. I clicked to read the message, and it was some drunken rambling. "Oh boy," I thought, "what now?"
Our messages would go back and forth with when we would meet again, to what each other did that day or night. That was the summer I owed...
I walked down the street with my pants around my ankles, arms akimbo, doing the Super Bowl Shuffle with a boombox wrapped around my ears. I had picked up 20 D batteries at the store, and if I was going to do something, I was going to do it right.
With the screaming vocals of Ronnie James Dio blaring from two overworked speakers, I strutted along the Santa Monica Pier. Rather, I did the Penguin Push all down the boardwalk. It was times like these when I was proud to say that I could rock out with my cock out....
My best friend is a guy called Peter and he's incredible at talking to people. He has a vault of information in his head that he's gotten from all of his past conversations with people. When he meets someone new he merely tells them what he knows so far about their hometown and then lets them build upon it, this he'll take to the next person he meets from there and so on. I was with him the other day and we were talking to a guy from south africa, we live in australia, and the guy was used to...
I thought the world had been tilted upside down. It would have been preferable to its actual state. Everything looks nicer upside-down. The castle glittered across the water, upside-down. What was above it was only a reflection, of course.
I looked at myself in the water. My reflection looked at me. No, I looked at my reflection. My reflection was the real me.
Nothing's as we thought it was, I thought, amazed at the simplicity of it all.
I could start again! All my mistakes could vanish in this upside down world... Nothing would be the same, but everything would....
These images flash in my brain whenever I close my eyes. A metal door. A girl in a red gown. Rain in a filthy alley.
I can't shut them off. I can't forget. I tried to drown myself in a bar, years ago. I couldn't forget then, I can't forget now. These memories of her are too strong.
She said her name was Maria. Her English was heavily accented. Her name wasn't Maria and we both knew it. I never learned where she came from. It wasn't something I wanted to know. Sometimes you have to walk past the detail;...