2070. Last digits of the code. No matter what they did, I was not going to tell them the rest of it. My undercover mercenary training would allow me to live for longer than the other hostages.
On the last day of the siege, everyone was dead but three of us. Now they wanted us to fight against ourselves to the death, only way we could be given life saving water. Jackson saved us the guilt, died at 10 am. Lewis, a meek accountant, killed himself. This wasn't the way the captors were expecting to spend their afternoon so decided...
The lights fled all over the world; it seemed as if the whole was stars. Everything blended into the night. All people could was stare admire beauty beyond imagination. The night didn't seem like the night; it looked something else. Something different. Blues were covering uo the black. Black was covering up the blue. But everyone didn't notice, because beauty is all they could see. A lady stood in the balcony, which would be one of her only moments alone looking at the beauty. All she could do was, and admire she did. Her eyes seemded glow in astonishment, but...
"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....
"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,...
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 audience stared open mouthed at me. I didn't know if I should cover up or keep dancing. Who would have thought I would have fallen out of my costume? A wardrobe malfunction, that's what they called it.
So I did what I thought was the right thing to do. I pushed myself back into the low-cut tube top and kept on dancing.
It wasn't like I was a double D floating through the air as the tassels twisted blindly around. I could fudge a C on a cold day.
I just hope someday I will live down the day...
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...
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,...
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.