I get up early to sneak away from the cottage for some peace.
Saddling up my borrowed stead, I look forward to the sensation of riding again. It's been a while and I have missed it.
We head straight for the beach. The flat, wind-swept sands are empty now. Salt is whipped into my face on the breeze, but it's a welcome sensation.
We walk, then trot, then finally we gallop.
Ga-dunk, ga-dunk, ga-dunk the hooves repeat.
My heart beats along in the same rhythm. The horse and I are one.
A fleeting memory of Patrick Swayze teaching Jennifer Grey...
It's night time tonight, but it's not dark. At least the places we go aren't dark. They are darker than the places that you might go in the day, but not as dark as the daylight places are now. We taxi-ed here, but now we're not sure if it's the right place. It feels right, the lighting is right, but there's no door. A man is walking his dog, and the dog is finding places other dogs have peed and peeing on top of them. It could be human pee the dog is covering, too - people with newspaper blankets...
It had been a long morning. The shouting and screaming had been relentless, as it always is with three children under six. She had spent the hours trying to patch up arguments, mollify sulkers, and generally bring a sense of cheer. Even the thought of their friend's birthday party had not raised a smile at one point. She felt like she was near the point of giving up completely.
The twins eventually seemed to decide that if they got ready they may enjoy the upcoming festivities. By quarter to twelve they were dressed in their finest party outfits and starting...
Within sight.
A new future within sight. Fresh hope, fresh starts.
Leaving behind everything we know and everything we hold true and dear, taking a chance on this foreign alien land because we have to. Because we have no othe choice and no other hope.
Who decides rights? Who decides the boy gets an education and the girl gets survival? Without the girl there would be no Decider.
Why does she take the front seat? Why must they lounge inter luxuries of lands which are not theirs?
A family exists elsewhere. Speaking another tongue and wearing a different skin does...
The year was 1986. My home, a typical home in Suburbia, USA. My life, a typical American teenager, filled with angst and dissatisfaction at my lot in life. Little did I realize how that life would soon change.
The summer of my sixteenth year was hot and humid, as most summers were in sunny Florida. My car was an old Chevy with the cloth interior roof held up by thumbtacks, the best I could afford on the money I saved working nights after school at the local movie theatre. Weekends I'd drive to my boyfriend's house, past the streetwalkers trying...
Sasha stretched as she woke, the cold early morning air stinging her skin. Looking around, it took a moment to figure out where she was. The woodland near the playing fields. She had never come out this far before. She should hurry back before anyone realised she was missing. There was no way she was going back to see Dr Williams again. He gave her the creeps. There wasn't anything wrong with her anyway. She knew her parents despaired at her stories, but they weren't just stories. Why couldn't they see that? They were every bit as real as she...
It never quite made sense to me, but maybe it's not supposed to. Here, my heels. There, my toes. One to the other and one to the next, and this is called walking. And this way it's called dancing. And this way it's called running.
And stand right here and feel the water, cold and cold and cold and squirming I reemerge, my breath barely able to contain my laugh.
And here are stockings, they go on like this, bunched and then stretched until the legs are consumed. "Oh no, it's up to my toe," I'd sing, remembering. "Oh, gee,...
She heard it calling out to her. Her clearing in Yellowstone -- it was whispering that it longed for her presence. And on this day, when she felt like the world was collapsing around her -- its edges bent and frayed and its fringes burning up in smoke -- she dragged herself there up winding paths and wild trees.
While most people saw Yellowstone as a national park, she saw it as her backyard, her sanctuary, her refuge. She had a clearing there, all her own, that bears in the hundreds of years they'd been there hadn't even found. But...
Swing with me friend. Come on to the cosmic dance floor of life and death, and dance. There are things there that can only be seen on the dance floor. The things you'll see there are both magical and yet still very plain once you get used to it you may say how can anyone get use to it well my friend I am Death and I've been here a long time now. Let's dance now and you can Live for a while longer. Swing friend Swing.
I awoke, bleary eyed to an explosion of noise outside my room. I lay there still, playing the situation through my mind, wondering what on earth could be happening. It was cold, my face especially so. Suddenly I felt a wetness there and lifted my head so that I could look down at where my head had been resting. There was blood on my pillow. The smell of it hit me with some force and I almost fainted. I touched my cheek where it had rested and felt the blood there on my face. Was it mine?
The noises outside...