He smoked pipes, ate limes, ate the gnats he swiped from the air. The lions lounged in the front yard. He chose lions because of the theme of pride. He had a rudimentary but certain understanding of pride. He stood at the front window staring at the lions, locking eyes as often as he could.
The doorbell rang. He turned quickly, spilling a squall of wine on the hardwood floor. The lions didn't stir. He heard a knock on the door. The lions stared at him.
"Hey! You! Jackass!"
Geoff was trying to make eye contact -- or, failing that, ear contact -- with the ferris wheel operator below. Geoff and Jo had been stuck at the top of the ride for more than five minutes now. And the effort might not have been so much in vain were they not surrounded by a cage.
No response. Of course.
"Will you knock it off?" asked Jo. "He'll get to it when he gets to it."
"It's just. Gah!" Geoff started rocking the ride. Back and forth, back and forth, the range of motion increasing each time....
She knew more than she was letting on - then again, that was her weapon. That was the way she lived her life, mostly on her wits.
He'd been watching her for longer than he should, longer than he'd been contracted to. He'd taken the case on (and that sounded ridiculous, he wasn't a detective, he was just a man) and had found himself captivated.
It wasn't lust. Wasn't love either. Neither of those things interested him, especially not with her (she may have been beautiful, once, a long time ago, or maybe she would become it when she grew...
Midnight on the roof of my four storey home.
It wasn’t normal for a vampire to have a phobia about heights. I‘d been stuck up there for a few days now, luckily finding some heavy tarpaulin that shielded me from sunlight during the long hours whilst I tried to think up ways to get myself down. Tried is the operative word. I felt brain dead. Didn't even have a cell phone.
As for telepathy, that's just an urban legend. I've never read anyone's thoughts, nor sensed another like me. I was so grateful for the first time in my life,...
Beer - Bier - l'alcool - it's all you really wanted
You are just so damn cold, inside and out. First day of November and you wake up to snowfall. All day you stayed inside trying to forget things: forget to find a job, forget to write up resumés, forget to eat, forget to follow through. But now you're outside and it's dark; it's been dark since 17:00. You're outside and it's cold; temperatures dropping to 2°c today. Guten Morgen the world said and Guten Nacht you told yourself. The damn cold just won't go away, the umbrella doesn't hide...
Baby, it's just one of those things. You dream of hexagons and get triangles. You hope for a bit of moonshine on your paperback and a black cloud splits her in two.
You concentrate on windows and carbon paper and a pigeon drops dead on the ledge. It's not the city or the suburbs. It's just everything.
Me? I work in a cubicle. That's the shape I'm in.
When he'd signed up to visit strange new worlds, he'd never envisioned this. He turned slowly in the glass globe, devoid of even snow or glitter, and bemoaned his fate.
He should have known better than to answer an ad for interstellar traveller posted in the local classifieds.
Crap.
The Delicate Chance
No one ever dared to push her too hard. She was robbed of all her real potential because everyone was so afraid she might break.
She had always had hopes and dreams like everyone else, but they stayed inside of her....
Was she really so fragile? Mickey dared to think otherwise. He spoke with Rachel often once she convinced him of how miserable her life was. He decided he coulnd't let her waste away any longer.
They never went anywhere--except in dreams....But their dreams had them soaring all over the world. Time was no obstacle, as they...
Rain poured down, next to her, the doorway shielding her. She clutched her red gown as she huddled down close to the ground. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. She was terrified. Elsewhere in Beijing, a man was looking through his house. Calling a name, begging for his daughter to come back.
The girl in the red gown knew what he was doing. She was trying not to care. She was not going back. Not after what he did. Was it right, what he did? What she did? She didn't know. Nobody would know. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She...
"You can count me out." he crossed his arms and leaned against the Maserati in such a way that made Jill know not to cross him again. But, despite the little voice screaming at her in her head, she did anyway. "Oh, come on, Finn, nothing's going to happen. Don't be a chicken." His features darkened. "No. I'm not going in there, and there's nothing you can say that will make me." she groaned inwardly; for 19, the guy sure could whine. "She isn't that bad, Finn." she said, exhausted with this argument. "N.O." he spelled it out for her,...