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...
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...
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...
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,...
" Hey Lukas, we need to go somewhere before you can open anymore gifts" said Bob (Lukas' father), Lukas walks out the door and into the car while stepping on the cold and white snow, when they were in the car they had noticed a lot of pets being walked, some were dressed up with little gaskets and others that had nothing on. They arrived at the place, Lukas looks up and notices that it says " PET STORE", He jumps with excitement and runs inside the store. While inside he grabs a collar, leash, food and water bowl and...
Mitch sits on the porch steps. He see his daughter near the tire swing. She spins and spins and spins, her tight blonde curls flying around her as the late evening breeze weaves its fingers through her hair. He thinks of how much she looks like an angel. The force of her delightful twirling sends her tumbling back into the soft grass beneath her. Mitch looks to his wife resting her head on his shoulder as she sleeps and smiles. This is their life and it is good.
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,...
"I'm sorry", the two words that shattered her world. She let the dial tone ring out, as a hot tear ran down her cheek. A tingling sensation ran down her spine. Thoughts raced through her mind, while time passed so slowly. Everything was going so well, what could she have done wrong?
Her natural instinct was to run, but she couldn't move as the cool air threatened to choke her. Clambering over her bedframe and wrapping herself in her warm bedcovers, the ones where she'd spent hours talking to him on the phone. The moon shone through her window, reminding...
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...
"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...