Driving along a road at night, rain pelting down, tall trees waving low branches across the sky, no moon, no road lights - thank god for cats eyes to keep me in the middle of this narrow lane. I wonder how far I have to drive before I can forget what happened? I wonder how far I have to travel before I can lose myself? I wonder how far I have to search before I find myself?
A failed marriage. A broken heart. The stuff of melodrama. I never thought these things would happen to me. Trapped in the nightmare...
The colors bleed into brown, red to rust, green to yellow.
The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace-- November will begin.
It mourns the soft breeze of summer, the baked earth from the sun, but looks forward eagerly to the cool rain, and rest in dormancy.
I stand next to the gnarled wood of the tree, placing my hand on the jagged surface.
This time, I'll follow the seasons. I 'll rest and let the autumn bleed from me my growth and energy.
Winter will freeze me, it's icy fingers clutching my heart, winding around my...
My great-grandfather was an explorer, an occupation prevalent when one had more to explore. On the the archipelago of Tierra del Fuego, he learned to speak Haush, a language near extinction since the 1920s. He taught the language to his son, who passed it on to my father. While we played catch on the front lawn, my father taught it to me, a word relayed with each pitch, returned with each throw.
Three generations dead, I exited the train at Buenos Aires.
Now, Ma'am, your academy sounds like a wonderful place for Peter, but there is something you should know about my son before you take him on. Well, you see, he's not like other boys. Yes, I know he looks normal enough but he... Peter is a very - how do I say this - high maintenance teen. He can - well, look out the window. See how he's not talking to the others? Oh, he's talking her out of his pocket. That's Tinkerbell, Ma'am. Shh - just watch. There's the pixie dust and... he's flying. (Oh, thank the good Lord...
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway. She shielded her eyes from the flashes of light that arced across the blackened sky, her face soaked with tears, her heart pounding in her chest as the cacophony of noise rattled her skull.
In London, a family huddled together in a corner of their living room, across from the window that had blown itself out from the force of the first impact. They held between them the grandmothers crucifix, praying to their God as if he could save them.
A man stood atop the Eifel...
The disco ball was turning, splattering little dots of light around the room. James waited patiently in his carefully thoughtout position directly above it. He needed to wait until his target reached the invisible X directly under the big rotating ball of tiny mirrors. His fingers ached but soon, he told himself, soon he would have satisfaction. The man in the suit coat was nearing th X. James positioned the knife next to the rope that held the disco ball. The man was on the X. In one swift motion, James cut the rope and watched as it fell. There...
"Don't you realize you can make a cake WITHOUT any the products of my femininity?" asked the chicken. She fluffed her feathers defiantly, shouting over the cars that zoomed mere inches from where she had taken her stance. "That is that last time anyone takes my eggs! I will NOT provide my children for your tasty treats!" She glared at the little girl.
Darla stared at the hefty bird. She adjusted her apron, dusting off some flour with one gloved hand. "I needed eggs for my mother's birthday cake!" she protested. Darting a glance at the heavy traffic, she...
I stopped running and gasped for breath. My brother caught up to me and dropped to his knees in exhaustion. My hand traveled silently to the weapon at my waist. I stood behind him breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry brother, but I can't share this time." In one swift motion, I brought the metal down on his head. His body crumpled in front of me and lay motionless.
The audience stared open mouthed at me. The thundering applause filled me and my brother sprang up from his crumpled heap on the stage floor and grabbed my hand for our final bow.
I was nothing like his mother. Didn't look like her, act like her yet he told his friends we had to split up because I was like her. WTF. He told me that he no longer fancied me so why say I was like his mom.
I'd known him for over a year, we'd split up and got back countless times. I imagined that this time it would be like the others. He split up then pretended it was the drink. Although this time I decided I wasn't going to accept his apologies any more. This was final.
Jim called...
"Swing." She watched her daughter, ignoring the wails and screams.
"Push me Mom!"
"No. Lean back and put your legs out. Then lean forward and pull them back."
"PUSH me MOM! NOW!"
"No. Lean back then forward. You can do it yourself. You will go higher then. Higher than even I can push you."
"MOMMY! Push me!"
"No. You need to be able to do it yourself." She watched as her daughter swung her uncoordinated legs about before giving up.
"Mommy! It DOESN'T work!"
"Let me show you. See! If I lean back and forth the swing goes without someone...