He put on his green scarf and walked out the door. Damn door. Never closed properly.
The sun was peaking behind some clouds. Damn clouds. It was probably going to rain.
He winced as he felt the warm sun on his face. It had been months since he'd seen the sun, months.
Damn sun. Probably give him skin cancer, at best, a tan.
A dapper man picked up a penny. He tossed it the air, but it fell. He never caught it. A spankled girl kicked up her skirts. They tangled about her legs, and she tumbled. A tired child opened is mouth. He cried out, but no sound came. No sound came. Sometimes nothing falls. Sometimes nothing lands. Sometimes nothing comes at all.
It is useless to try to explain that to the Thing. They don't understand cause and effect, you see. That is another dapper man, Commander Hollis, trying to explain. They don't understand us, and we don't understand them. The...
One misty morning, the green-clad man woke up to his usual alarm clock. He looked out his window to see the sun shining heavily. "Jolly good! I can finally get a tan, and women will find me attractive!" He exclaimed as he rushed out from his covers to get dressed. As he was walking out the front door, he heard an unfortunate newscaster announce, "Well, if you're planning to go to the beach today, you might want a change in plans. Turns out lots of rain is headed in only a couple of hours. It's a good thing I already...
The angel wasn't at all what I expected. Jeans and hoodies weren't the kind of thing Divine Messagers should wear. And squeamish of spiders too!! He jumped up when the large hairy creature walked over his white trainers, I only noticed because I happened to drop my cell phone at that precise moment. As soon as he looked down he screamed as though all of hell was after him and leapt in the air.
John told me that he was getting therapy for his phobia and had been relegated to ordinary duty by his heavenly master, nothing spectacular for him...
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"Even in a finite universe, a rock doesn't keep being a rock. Things are always disintegrating and becoming other things." Our Tragic Universe, Scarlett Thomas
There was once a rock, a very old rock, a rock which had laid low for a very long time. It couldn't remember how long that long time actually was but somehow knew without needing to remember that that long time was long enough. It was a rock that took great pride in its appearance, habitually watering its neat lawn of grass, combing its thick coat of moss, trimming it at least once a week....
"You toddled around your aunt's spacious yard in your pastel dress with lacy white ruffles, matching bloomers showing beneath. When you found one egg, you carried it so carefully. When you found another, you gently picked it up, and held an egg cupped in each tiny palm, then smashed them together." My grandfather chuckled as he looked at the picture of me hunting Easter eggs on Aunt Lois' farm. He loved to tell that story, and loved to see the adoration for me that shined in his eyes as did told it. I miss him.
The dream had been wonderful, yet it would never be real: she knows, even as she wakes, in the taste of bitter almonds at the back of her throat.
She tries to still herself completely so she can relive it in the morning haze. There was a boy-- no, a man-- and he had called her somewhere, taken her somewhere--
She breathes. In, out. In, out. Maybe there's something in dreamcatchers after all.
There had been a man in the dream. That is certain. There had been a man in the dream, and he had--
The fan drones incessantly. She...
The dapper man picked up a penny.
Then he picked up a dime.
"Which of these is worth more?" he asked the children arrayed in three neat rows on the floor in front of him.
"The dime!" they chimed in chorus.
"Very good!" said the dapper man. "And why is it worth more?"
"It's shiny!"
"It's pretty!"
"It's more specialer!"
"I've got three of 'em in my pocket!"
"Great answers, children!" said the dapper man. "But actually, a dime is worth more because it's so much easier to use a dime for Rhyme Time!"
The children cheered and began to...
"If you don't stop humming 'Leaving on a Jet Plane', I'm going to strangle you!"
Our first vacation in 5 years and already we were at each others' throats. I continued to hum as she dug through her carry-on for a book.
She sighed and in a wistful voice said "The beach, some sun, a palm tree. What could be better?" Reaching out, she patted my knee and turned to look anxiously a the departure board.
I put my hand on top of hers and squeezed. "Relax, they'll be fine by themselves. They're old enough to keep out of trouble."...