The children were not at school. Where were they? Unkown. I am an English teacher at a high school near Houston and, like any other weekday between late August and early June, I was expected a classroom of childen in front on me. Not on this day. The bells rangm yet I heard niothing. I saw nothng. Heck, I didn;t even smell anything! I walked out into the hallway and talked with the other teachers. Nobody had any students in their rooms. I then saw all the princiapls talking with angry words and loud voices. They didn;t seem to know...
OHMYGOSH A BABY CHICK!
AHH!! IT'S A PICTURE OF PEOPLE SWIMMING ON AN IPHONE!
WHAT DID PEOPLE DO BEFORE THE INTERNET, CARLY!!
Nothing but a typical Monday night of avoiding sleep and showering, trying to be productive but failing miserably. I'm so hungry, but it's way too late to even think about eating. With ballet in the morning, it's probably best to just shower and get it over with and get in bed or I'll regret it for the next week.
HEY MICAH. WE SHOULD BORROW CJ's CAR AND GO TO TARGET ON WEDNESDAY.
OKAY, IF THIS GUY'S TELLING THE...
My friends are so annoying they threw fake snow all over me as my perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe came out of the oven. I hate it when my friends team up against me like I really don't like it because they treat me like nothing, like I mean nothing to them, I know that sometimes people get annoyed and sometimes even a bit moody. But still, I want to know that I belong, that they care about me and that they need me, but really it's annoying. it is now going to take ages to get this fake snow...
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. Even this morning, she hadn't really thought of it. A white dress, sure. A veil, sure. Kitten heels, yes. She had told Marjorie that she didn't want her make-up done.
"I've been doing all right for forty years," she said. Marjorie just looked at her and then looked away without saying anything.
Marjorie was pretty. Everyone thought so. It wasn't so much a matter of thinking, even. Empirically, she was attractive. But she wore a lot of make-up.
This morning Marjorie wasn't there. Wasn't there to watch her pull on stockings...
I lost my grip on the wheel. Well, not really. In reality, I lost my grip on everything. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world around me became a blur of distant activity and the noise around me sounded like a conversation floating through walls from the other end of a house. The world both started in motion and went completely still in the very same second. In that moment, walking past him in the hallway, I forgot my name. All I could remember was the image of him walking to his locker that burned itself into my mind....
There is no photo.
To push a button. Such a simple thing. But where would it take me?
Down.
But what will be waiting for me there? Is it a place I want to go?
I thought I had hit rock bottom, but when there seemed no lower place to go, the answer is this elevator.
Down
But maybe Down is Up. The raised letters under my fingers promised escape and newness. In a life where everything is the same and without hope, any change can be good, right? Hope as a byproduct of fear.
Nothing to lose.
Down.
The water was clear. Wavy, but pleasant. The type of water you'd enjoy skipping rocks across. But this was not a time for horseplay. Nothing was in sight, nor had anything been in sight for the past 3 days. Floating, bobbing up and down in the middle of nowhere. How did this happen?
The water was foggy. You couldn't see all the way to the bottom, but you could see halfway through. The smell coming from the glass was very relaxing and a good start to a wonderful vacation away from it all. The clouds in the sky looked dark....
As I sat on the edge of the meadow, I wondered if I'd been wasting my life. Yeah, I know, everybody thinks that. But not a day goes by when I don't leave projects undone, conversations unhad, stories untold.
And even now, there's so much I could do, but instead I stare at the horizon. I imagine butterflies, and wonder what simple lives they must have. No-- not simple, meaningless. Though I suppose the two are one and the same. After all, it's easy to get through a day when there's nothing you want to accomplish.
I lament the wasted...
She didn't look at him.
She never did. Never could.
If she met his eyes then she would dissolve into giggles, and the charade would be over. They'd both be cast out - or maybe just him - and that would be the end of everything.
He played his part so well, that was why it was funny. He would happily sit there and spout such rot, and these sychophantic ghouls would nod and revere him.
They didn't know he was just staff in her father's suit.
He was an orator, a charmer - he could spin a yarn, and...