When I crossed the street, my mind was rapidly flashing with the dreadful information. I sprinted to the bus stop, and scowled, to find the bench, filthy, and obviously occupied by a sleeping homeless man. When the bus came, I boarded, along with a woman that had just walked by, her high heels clattering on the pavement. I observed the driver, as I always do, sitting in the front, and deciding if he has a criminal background or not. If he does, I'll get off at Washington, the next stop. I tapped my feet on the floor of the bus,...
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;...
She'd always come running when I called. I couldn't resist her blonde hair and silky skin, or the fact she was always willing to sleep with me on summer and winter breaks from school. I'd come over in the morning; sometimes she had just woken up. We'd go up to her room, with lime-colored walls and rainbow-striped sheets. Entangled, entranced, and full of ecstasy. She'd get me a glass of water after we kissed after sleeping together. I hid my bike behind her house in case her mom came home unexpectedly. Our first time she was 15, and I was...
He was pacing back and forth. His dress pants making a slight swifting noise with every step.
"They should have been here by now," Tom said breathing heavily.
"They will get here when they get here," I replied as I tried to relax on his couch.
We were in his office and we had an important meeting.
It was with a new set of clients who had a nasty reputation. We were suppose to change that for them, however, they were late for the first meeting. A bad sign.
First impressions are everything here. Tom and I rarely discuss anything...
Blue eyes. Everyone here has blue eyes. A woman in the corner has eyes the color of pale winter ice. The girl wrapped in her boyfriend's arms outside of the tiny cafe has blue eyes that look like the muted blue-gray of storm clouds. Her boyfriend looks at her adoringly with eyes that hold at least five different tones of the brightest blue I've ever seen. Little children skitter past me, and I make out in vivid detail, four sets of blue eyes.
I stand here on the old, worn sidewalk with my eyes downcast. My eyes are not blue,...
Kenya. She said her name was Kenya.
And then she laughed. I couldn't hear it, not over the music in the bar, not over the shouting of everyone around us. But I saw the laugh, starting in her stomach, and traveling up and out of her mouth.
She leaned closer and said that her parents had grown up with Black Power and Africa awareness, and decided to name her Kenya. That they had grounded her the first time she straightened her hair.
Her voice, the part of her voice I could hear, had a huskiness to it that really appealed...
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...
Gigantic.
That was the only way she could describe it. A gigantic mistake.
He had seemed like an excellent choice. A little daring, a little dangerous, but still good-looking. Still smart. Law-school bound and blonde, he could have been taken home.
Waking up in an historic apartment in the Highlands the morning after the Kentucky Derby was romantic. Especially on such a sunny. He pointed out the dog walkers while still wrapped up in white sheets.
She should have never said she knew what she was doing.
The samurai didn't know where he was.
It seemed similar to the forest outside his hometown. But it didn't feel right. The sounds seemed different, The air felt different. He didn't feel as though he'd been transported, and yet... something felt wrong, as though something were missing yet there all at the same time.
He continued his wanderings before coming across a wood and metal track. A strange trail, to be certain, but one that would certainly lead him to the nearest town, hopefully to make sense of his clear lack of orientation.
The sounds did seem different, especially along...
"Can you believe it?" she breathed, eyes wide enough to take in the whole panorama.
Venice was empty. The sun hazed behind a gauze of clouds, glinting off the bows of the gondolas that knocked rhythmically against their moors. As we walked across the worn cobbles, I pointed out the bridge of sorrows. Years ago, prisoners were taken from some sort of religious court to their plight, and their wails left echoes that hadn't quite dispersed yet.
The plaza was magnificent, rid of all people - and the pigeons were scarce too. The bell tower was mighty and the palace...