She had no idea why she'd put on her red party dress this morning. It was cold, it was overcast, and she had nowhere special to go. Still, when she'd awakened this morning, the thought that made her want to get up was not any of these:
- You have the entire day to yourself
- You deserve to do something fun
it was:
- You love the way you look in that dress.
So, on an autumn morning indistinguishable from the days that proceeded and would follow it, Sal was wearing her red silk dress, a natty trench coat,...
It was supposed to be a nice relaxing drive. We were going to my mother's house for Christmas, the presents all stacked up in the trunk and carols playing on the radio. I sat in the passenger's seat. My husband was driving. It was getting a bit late, but we hoped to reach her house by about ten. Not a lot of traffic. Nice country road. But that all changed. I had closed my eyes and was about to drift off when I heard a loud, inhuman scream. My eyes shot open and I looked at my husband's pale cheeks....
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. It wasn't a normal doorway because when I say doorway you think of things like wood and brass nobs and, possibly, hinges.
This had none of those.
And it was hardly a red gown, because you are likely thinking of something you'd take to a ball, or if you're the really twisted sort, and I can tell you are, there's an image of a piece of clothing given out to a somewhat disturbing institution, or asylum, for those less inclined to modern verbiage or intent on...
It was the fall that surprised me the most. Three steps backward, and then that horrible feeling of stomach-in-throat, where time passes normally but feels like an eternity; seconds equaled hours as I prepared myself for the eventual landing; just as I thought I was ready, more time would pass.
All told, I was probably lacking contact with the ground for no longer than a fraction of a second, but just like in the movies, the fall felt like a slow-motion ordeal--it was as if the air were made of liquid and I was lighter than normal, but still heavy...
"Stacy, come on! Hurry up!"
I huffed as I ran behind him. "John-" pant, pant, "please, for the love of all-" pant, pant, "-that is holy. Slow down!"
He laughed, and continued to run, as though we were children still. Adults don't run. They tell other kids to stop running. And for good reason, too! It's tiring!
He stopped at the top and looked down at me, watching me walk the rest of the way. As soon as I reached his side, I frowned at his gorgeous hazle green stare.
And he smiled.
"Could kill you, ya know," I huffed....
Portraits lined the hallway. No matter where you stood, it seemed like the eyes were following you, staring at you in disdain. Freddy didn't care for the effect, so he hurried his way through the hall to the sitting room.
A large statue stood in the center of the room. The white marble figure resembled a famous historical figure, but Freddy couldn't quite place just which one--perhaps Ben Franklin. Ben Franklin 1.0, to be exact. Ben Franklin 1.2 was currently going through some new, more rigorous testing because Baron Von Bonn's steambot army made short work of the original. Luckily,...
Elle courait dans le couloir comme le matin les joggers courent le long de la piste cyclable. C'était son entrainement quotidien. A défaut de joli chemin en plein air, le corridor était son stade. Et elle était rémunérée pour courir. Non pas pour faire la gloire de la Chine aux JO, non, mais pour faire circuler l'air dans cet immeuble-ville. Les mouvement d'air provoqué par ses déplacements assuraient en partie la ventilation de l'habitation. Elle fait partie cette génération remise au goût moderne des enfants des mines.
Une fois son jogging d'une heure effectué, elle pouvait vaquer à ses occupations...
She has to save them. That's her job. That's all her job's ever been. She has to sit on top of them, explode into feathers and squawks when needed, brood for days when they're stolen, make countless vows that she'll do better next time.
She likes her jokes, Mother Hen does.
Easter Bunny can steal them every time. He pleads, too, every time, of the scarcity of eggs on the planet, of how hard it is for an honest bunny to make a living nowadays, of the lack of belief in himself, the fake plastic hunts for things that were...
I've love photography ever since my father got me into it a few years ago. It would be hard to fill in his shoes. After 13 years of school and learning, my friends and I decided to go to Italy for a brake for once. As we were going around town in Rome I saw these beautiful flowers on the side and I told my friend to pick some and hold them and i would take a photo of her with them. I posted this photo as a memory of us in Rome and it got 2 million likes. Ever...
Aurora Moondust Boardman was gripped by a mixture of fear and excitement as she read he Great, Great, Great Grandmothers words. Back in the early 21st century a rather twee social network called Twitter was de rigeur. Nowadays they had the Social Implants that allowed thoughts to be transferred to any of their Optimim Subscribers.
She talked a lot about '@Pesky_Kid' whom Aurora presumed was her Gt, Gt Grandfather. He was famous for his daring exploits in th 50's when he pioneered the first Mashed Potato Wars computer game and retired a millionaire at 20. Kate (as her ,Gt,GT Grandma...