"It's meant to get better."
He looked at the empty glass in front of him, studied the bottom, as if it was going to promise him that it would get better.
It didn't. It also didn't refill itself.
"It will."
He glanced up - of course, he could, at least, rely on his best friend.
Well. One of them. Since the other one had -
That glass was still empty. That could cause a problem.
"She's still gone."
"That isn't going to change."
This paticular best friend may prove to be useless - oh, no, wait, he was hailing the...
Kelsey had always hated Kent. Kent was a skinny, chaste, and weak man. His skin was light and ashy, his hair not blonde but not quite brown. His teeth could have been more white. She hated the way he talked, all whispery. His voice, unreliable. His feelings, pushing up and making this more of a life.
Kelsey looked in the mirror and hated Kent so much it hurt. She hated him with sorrow. She hated him with Rage.
She decided to kill him.
She took a knife in her left hand.
She held out Kent's right hand, as if showing...
i jumped. it was the toaster this time. nerves of steel. i hand the waffle to my daughter. "dad (looking me over)--you are really bad at fashion." that's the tip of the iceberg.
people are circles. the outside circle is our behavior. the next circle is our thoughts. inside that, our feelings. at the center there is supposed to be something else, something more lasting and substantial. a light, our soul, awareness, something. and that's what we really are.
but what if this center goes unused or unnoticed for so long that it disappears. or the outer circles take on...
The sheep were at pasture, but the shepherds were gone. They had made a deal with the wolves to let them have a portion of their herd just to be left alone.
That night, the wolves slowly approached the pasture, their long canines shining as they approached their soon-to-be meal. Heavy paws crunched against the dirt and grass as low rumbles started in their throats.
The sheep were at pasture, but the shepherds were gone. The wolves would feast well tonight.
The sheep were at pasture, but the shepherds were gone. And the sheep were not sheep anymore. They were...
I was just taking a walk when it happened. Listening to music, enjoying the fresh mountain air, nothing special. It started with two butterflies. Two pink butterflies.
I had never seen two flying together before. I'm not much of a nature person. I don't like the woods, I just like the solitude. But these two butterflies caught my attention. I followed them through the woods, watching them zig and zag out of each other's paths, always staying together. I know nothing about butterflies it just seemed so unusual.
When they finally fluttered out of sight, I looked around and realized...
He pushed open the thin metal handle on the fingerprint-streaked glass door and the din of the bowling alley got cranked. What the fuck was he doing here? Three or four pieces of jailbait giggled past in a rush and he tried to avoid looking.
Mallory was always late, he thought. Couldn't get ready to go out without at least one girlfriend to help. It was almost pathetic if it wasn't true that she was way, way, way the hell better at being social than he was. Why else would he be at a fucking bowling alley on a Friday...
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...
That fucking cat. How is despised that insignificant ball of mutualized space.
How is its calico and limber body silently creeped around corner, caused my jaw to clench and my palms to quiver. I would do anything to take that rodent and dismember it's jointed body.
Don't get me wrong I am not one to be murderous or even harmful for that matter, but my hatred for that that fury thing lingers in every moment of its presence.
Why couldn't she just leave it to suffer that gloomy saturday? The pound was stale and seeped with death, just where that...
There was this mouse, see, and her name was Dot. Dot the mouse. Anyway, Dot had a son whose name was Dwight. Dwight was hungry all the time because the only thing he would eat was Egg Foo Yung from the Golden Chopsticks restaurant in downtown Buffalo. Problem was Dot, Dwight, and the owner of the house, Helen Quartermain, lived in Detroit.
So Dot was pigging out on cheese and rice that Helen Quartermain had left on the floor. Dwight wouldn't touch it. So Dot goes up to Helen and says: "Yo, HQ. My baby's starvin and you better pick...
Marie Antoinette sat in the tub, eating chocolate truffles and drinking champagne. Her ruffled leggings lay in a heap on the floor. She thought as she looked out the window that she was ever the perfect Mademoiselle. She gazed out onto the misty countryside, daydreaming. Although, what could she dream about? She was living her dream. She took another bite of chocolate and smiled.
Just then, her little sister's pink range rover came trundling into the driveway, reminding her that it was 2015 and she was not in France. She would not marry her prince, because princes don't exist nowadays....