Goodnight!
I said that to him five hours ago and I have still yet to join him.
Damned insomnia.
Sucking the life from my brain, the energy from my soul and making me want to twist the necks of birds as they mock me with their dawn chorus.
How did I get here? Consorting with the godless hours. Joyless hours offering endless opportunities to think. To think about the past, the grey future and the uncertainty of existence.
I click the remote onto channels spewing out drab stories or, in some cases, none at all.
'Closed' it says on the...
Lost without a hand to hold, Shelly, looked both ways down the street. Dropped down from the curb into an alley between fender and bumper and peeked her dark brown eyes along the concrete corridor.
A dark station wagon rolled by, riding heavy and low. Momentarily, her reflection stared back at her in the tinted window, haloed in the streetlight. A brick caught in her throat and she swallowed, but it wouldn't go away.
Shelly turned stood there, arms out, resting on hood and trunk and swallowed and gulped and shook her head and bounced up and down, hoping the...
It landed in 1966. The voyages of the Starship Enterprise would enthrall fans of Star Trek for three years before finally being cancelled. Years later, a movie franchise would be born, as well as subsequent televisions hows. There were comics, novels, and Star Trek fan conventions. The words "Trekkie" and "Trekker" entered the lexicon.
It landed in 1966. He landed in 1966. The Great Bird of the Galaxy, Gene Roddenberry, landed his series on our television screens for the first time and the world would never be the same again.
"Eff off rain! I want a tan, not for my green shirt to get wet!"
The results were in, and despite it all, she didn't want to know.
She didn't want to be told. She didn't want anyone else to know. She'd fought for these tests, fought to receive the results, and now they were in her hands...
"You're not going to open them, are you?"
He had known all along that she wouldn't do it - she realised it now. He knew her far too well. She placed the envelope delicately onto the table, and took his hands instead.
"I'm not ready to know, not yet. I've had so long getting used to the...
What would happen if I just left in the middle of the night?
He wouldn't remember you when he got older.
A price would need to be paid, but I don't know about him completely forgetting.
Personally, I think you should go.
He loped into the night, thinking and rubbing his too soft hands face, never quite sure if he had been slapped in the face.
Marie wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Breathing heavily, she glanced impatiently at the bland, hospital door; its paint peeling around the edges; the hinges rusted. She knew that her sister was not in the hands of the most experienced doctors in town, but it was the closest hospital to home. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she interlaced her fingers, scrutinising the short, stumpy nails; a result of her anxious gnawing. Marie's mind wandered, as far as it could from the looming thought of her sister's fate. But within seconds, her thoughts were pulled right back...
Look, I admit, I'm at least partly responsible for the situation. It's my fault I'M here, and not his, er, mine.
The pronouns can get really confusing, so maybe I should just back up. It's not easy being a clone, or, shall I say a time-displaced duplicate of him. I mean, of myself (see?). The accident happened a while ago, really long enough for him, the other me, to get used to it. We both decided that we'd stay in the same house and have the same life; he owed me that much, for saving his (my) life.
I DON'T...
They where here again, this phonebox that they grew up at. There youth had been spend trying to understand the system inside the box. Exploreing what a telephone is, how it work and how it charges you. Now they where back, Johan the older sibbling had decided he wanted to have this phone on exhibit in his new apartment.
So they went to work, together. He and his brother that shared that interest for technological system that was there childhood. Together they pried it off the wall at the same time talking about all the memorys of exploreing the telephone...
When I was twelve, I went to sea with my father. My mother had protested out of worry saying that I was not yet ready for the trials of life at sea, but once she had been persuaded to allow me to go, I went with excitement behind my eyes and the song of the gulls ringing in my ears.
I remember the very first time I set foot on the deck of my father's small sailing ship. I instantly fell in love with it. The clear blue waves, the crisp air, and the reflections in the polished wood...