"Goodnight." He bid her as they paused at her gate.
He was not like the other guys she had led down this path. She hadn't walked too close, occasionally letting their arms brush. She hadn't turned suddenly, stepping closer to him. She hadn't looked up at him out of the corner of her eye and silently willed him to kiss her.
He was not like the other guys because she was not going to stretch her hand out as she lifted the latch on the gate. She was not going to pull him up the path as she turned the...
It was raining and I had nowhere to be and somehow that Leonard Cohen record was on again.
Today I will vanquish nothing.
Today my triumphs will be small and non tangible, smoke like.
I will start with coffee and end with whiskey, the couch will remain the same.
Tomorrow I will be a better man for having lived today slow, reading, sipping - not struggling or scheming. Just the rain and and the mood and my slight beauaty.
I stare at the row of perfect houses resting on the perfectly manicured lawns beneath a perfectly blue sky by perfectly green trees. I am surrounded by perfection, but I have not been given it.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm doing this.
I bend down to the ground. There is a ball lying there, perfectly out of place. I pick it up. My son could've played with this ball. He would have been good at sports, I'm certain. Slowly I curl my fingers around it, and feel the perfectly creased leather, shiny with memories of sunny afternoons and perfect throws...
You can hide me here, in my pretty things. I will not stir to fight the malaise.
However did you want me, strong? To have your cake and eat it, too?
I was just dreaming of the outside world, of a dream outside this dream. Of colors that are vivid and real. Of people you can reach out and touch. Of rain that falls onto your skin. Of dirt that makes you truly dirty.
And you, you were just telling me stories. Stories of the people you saved during your travels. How you shared a space with a teenage mother...
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...
Okay, I needed to think. If I went left I would definetly be caught. If I went right, I would also be caught. But if I went straight ahead... I would be an open target. I had no other choice. I looked to the left and to the right, readied myself, and took off. I sprinted as fast as I could acrossc the open field and up the hill to where the man was standing, waiting to collect my information. As I ran, I could hear shouts from behind me but, since the snipers could not recognize me, I was...
The wall is the place most people choose on their own. You come for a day or a week and it's never to see the sights. The sights are immaterial, and not unexpected. Temples, tea houses with dripping peremera trees hanging soot and sleek flowers over damp pollenated tables. Once thriving book shops and market warrens closed down by the proper authorities. Cab drivers who direct you round about ways and never give useful directions. None of these things are unusual, or particularly memorable. It is instead, the wall itself, that calls to you. The wall is the reason you...
Alarm clocks, women, toys and books;
Bananas, high-heels, dirty looks.
The clocks get bigger as they grow,
For Cleopatra told me so.
And in the middle of it all,
Suspended, that which cannot fall,
There lies a prickly yellow fruit
That renders chosen meter moot.
A dapper man bent down and picked up a penny off the cobblestone walkway. A young girl gasped softly as she ducked into a nearby alley. She watched in suspence as the man turned the penny over and over in his hands. That was all the money that her mother had given her for the day and she had been instructed to take it to the baker's shop that afternoon. If she was short by even one penny by the time she reached her shop, she would not have enough to buy any food. The man paused for a moment...
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...