"Why do people have to lie?" Bridgette asked herself as she looked over the water.
The couple that passed gave her a odd look but she just shrugged, she didn't care what people thought.
"I always tell the truth, even when I probably shouldn't. So, why is it so hard for other people? Why can't they just say what they feel?"
A face of a boy she knew drifted to the forefront of her mind; sure, she already knew he liked her but did he ever tell her? No.
"Things would be so much more simple if people just spoke...
I counted the Braille dots on the "DOWN" button for the 43rd time.
Then I counted them for the 44th time.
And the 45th time...
No longer satisfied with simply counting the dots themselves (there are always 18), I was now counting my counts, which, at least, were never the same, though always increasing.
Have you ever been stuck in an elevator? Neither have I. I am inexperienced with this. I don't know what I'm supposed to do while stuck in an elevator. I don't know what other people do when stuck in an elevator. I don't know what Jesus...
Her name is Octavia Fabrizi and she is 76-years-old. Born in Florence, Italy, she has lived her entire live on the outskirts of the villa where she and her husband have a small business selling baked goods. Every morning before work, Octavia takes up her bicycle and rides for five miles back and forth It is this exercise, and her love of life, that has kept her alive. Or so Octavia believes. Possibly she is right. It is a question that does not bother her overmuch. She's seen too many, older and younger, pass on to the Otherworld and, thus,...
Fitzwilliam scowled as he surveyed the meager farms that bordered his own. One in particular, owned by one Aiden O'Dell, grew nothing but the wretched root. Apparently the folk here were simple enough to enjoy living on it.
And foolish enough to depend on a single crop for sustenance, he mused inwardly, pleased at himself for being so much better than the mere peasants.
He whistled as his convoy of carriages continued on the road to the port, its armed escort trudging along in silence, but ever watchful, in case of attack by the occasional band of ungrateful Irishmen. He...
The children were not at school. They were in the phone booth. Both of them - Kit and Lemuel. They just couldn't keep out of that phone booth, located on the corner of Samuel and Lane Street. Lord knew why. Maybe it was because of the peanuts.
Kit was 8 and Lem was 7 and they were both s'posed to be at Lincoln Elementary. But that phone booth called to them.
"Who should we call today?" asked Kit.
"Let's choose a name out of the phone booth at random," says Lem.
So they open up the white pages and Lem...
Light.
It had been a while since I've seen it. Not the kind of light that you switch on or off when you walk into a room, but the light that switches on when you hit the bottom. The light that you were missing while you were walking blindly around that led you to fall.
I know many times before I could have just switch it on, but I'm stubborn. I couldn't let go of my pride and admit I could not see and that I was wrong.
Arrogant.
But the Lord is patient. He knows me very well, heck,...
It was the same old lie it always was.
"The day after tomorrow, this will all be over."
Of course it would. And tomorrow morning, someone would say it again. And the day after that. And the day after that.
Tomorrow may never come, but the day after tomorrow? Not a chance. Not a glimmer of hope.
The days all ran together anyway, here - there was nothing that set any one day apart from another. The air would be thick with tension, the trench would be cold, somebody would get injured, another would die. It was the same every...
He wanted people to know he'd been there, so he left his shoes. There was nothing else he could leave. He trudged back up the hill towards camp. But the boots stayed. Years after, as groups of people ventured to the clear lake, they saw his shoes and left their own shoes. Without meaning to, he had started a tradition. Pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes were left by the lake, a little memento of the wearer there by the lake forever. Pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes.
My family is all we have, we're all so tight and we wouldn't leave each other ever. We made a promise that till death do we part. Sunday morning, my favourite day of the week. My family and I go swimming under the reef and through the coral as we feel our gilld glide through the water. It was perfect, there's nothing better than spending time with family in such beautiful areas.
I went off by myself to explore.. In the middle of the water was a piece of bread just randomly in the ocean so I went and bit...
It was an odd feeling. Looking at a family. He'd been away from his own family for so long that he felt like he'd never had one. Now look at him, alone, dirty, addicted, wandering the streets without a cent to his name. How could he even try? It was so close. He looked at his wallet. No money. No credit cards. No business cards. Just photo, wrinkly and turned over, of the family, the life he once had. As he looked at the family in central park, it almost made his heart yearn. He wanted to turn over the...