It was all a laugh. The lion hunting, being carried around by the natives, sweating on the African planes. Life was one big hurrah. We were, after all, the Empire. Not just an empire, but the Empire. Below the snows of Kilimanjaro, we posed for our picture, giggling, playing with one another. This was life. This was the life that power built. Our power? Not so much. It was more a power build over the years. One conquest after another. Royal Africa Company. East India Company. Liverpool. Manchester. Watt, Arkwright, and so forth. We were something unique. The cool arrogance...
The lamp wouldn't turn on. He struggled with it for what seemed like half an hour, swearing under his breath, and then swearing out loud, loudly out loud, freaking out both of the cats in the apartment. He would apologize to them later. Anyway, they should be used to it by now.
And then once he got the damned thing on he couldn't turn it off.
He wasn't going to waste half an hour on this useless project, too. He wanted to go to bed. He simply unplugged the lamp. That turned it off. That worked. Now the apartment was...
A flash of red. A tiny girl huddled in a doorway, solace from the stinging wind. She was alone, completely alone, in a place that used to hold hundreds of thousands. Grey as far as the eye could see, except for that beautiful red dress. It was a gift from her mother. The result of much whining and pleading on her part, and saving and scrounging on the mother's. 3 days ago, on her birthday, she had opened the ornately wrapped package to discover it. She was so happy.
"Come on," Ricardo yelled, growing more frustrated by the second. "That guy is still trailing us. Step on it!"
"I don't know, Ricardo," Mark sympathized, "he looks homeless, and he probably needs help."
"Step on it!" Ricardo demanded. Mark obeyed.
Sam was just an average guy, at least he had been - but one day, he lost his job, his wife, and his two daughters at the same time. And he was cast into the streets. Sam tried to live his life, but it got harder every day, and he was in a state of severe depression. Sam had attempted...
I stare up into the sky, watching all the birds fly by.
Someday I'm gonna fly too.
My balloons float, why can't I?
I'm just a girl, I'm not special like you.
You flew and I want to fly after.
Not yet, but someday.
My head sighs but my heart beats faster.
I'll find a way.
Today he awoke to the blaring sound of thunder. "Again", he thought to himself. It had been just like this for 38 days straight now. The long hours throughout the day and evening. The animals making their sounds all the time, never ceasing sometimes; the frogs, he couldn't stand the tree frogs.
And there were the ladies on board the boat, always nagging, "Noah, do this", it just never stopped. Actually at one point he was completely ready to abandon ship and climb up the inside wall of the hull and out that little window and float off to wherever...
Potatoes. They were on my plate at dinner. I ate them. They tasted fine. After dinner I went to the bookstore and thought of you. I think of you there most, though we never shared our favorite books with each other. I don't know if you like Tolstoy or Camus, Kurt Vonnegut or George Orwell. But I think of you most often at the bookstore. Or the library. Anywhere with a million stories and possibilities between fresh and aging paper. I think of us that way, a million possibilities; a story waiting to be written or read. A story to...
she was tired. she was cold. she was a ninja and she was hungry. hungry for revenge. they were out there she just had to find them. the ninja girl gather herself and left the doorway. time for payback. out in the streets, people stared at the ninja girl. she ignored them and walked right passed the throngs of people. weapons must be located for ninja zombies wouldn't die on their own.
after weapon collection it was time for zombie hunting.
remember to cut off the head first this time she reminded herself. there are no points for style when...
It was his job to paint portraits of people. They'd give him huge sums to paint them. Just look in the mirror, idiots! But it was his living, and he did it well. He lifted his brush to the canvas and glanced back at the young lady, who smiled. He smiled back weakly and started to paint. He loved the way the brush flowed over the canvas like ink out of a pen. It was beautiful. He painted slowly but surely, letting the paint take him where it needed to go. Soon the painting was finished. He showed the young...
It was dodge ball. The curse! I am the nerd in school and i happen to be picked last. As usual. My crush, Hannah, was on the other team. I cant believe i still like her. She barely even knows i exists.
Anyways it was PE. The dreaded hour of the day. I was standing at the back because i obviously cant throw a ball more than two feet. There she was. The PE uniforms looked horrible on everyone else but man, she could pull it off. Then i was pulled out off my head and slammed in the face...