I jumped accepting this spell might not work but at least I had to try.
The Green Man had been appearing in my dreams for two consecutive weeks, trying to show me through weird symbols and events that my Grandmother's life was in danger from the property developers intent on buying up the back portion of her enormous garden. The woodland area. Wanting to build a private road to their new homes constructed on the McKenzie land.
They tried buying for a nominal fee, then upped the price. But now they were running out of time and didn't care what...
I swallowed and stared at the three directors sitting behind the log wooden table. One of them wore a black cap and had his ear pierced. The middle one was tall with pin straight black hair and a choker necklace strapped across her neck. The third and final director wore a backwards baseball cap and a loose button down with jeans. The first two stared at me, one with a look of pity and the other with a look of annoyance. I guess that's my cue.
"Well thank you so much again." I said, picking up my brown across the...
What happens when life finally becomes too much to bear? He thought about it a great deal - but was unable to put hiself into those shoes. What happens when you feel death is more important than life? Or is that the wrong question to ask, he wondered. Perhaps the real question was: why had she decided that death on her own was preferable to life with him?
He had come home that day - an ordinary day like any other day - and been surprised not to find her in her usual place in the kitchen. Every time he...
Milkshakes from the cosmos! Or something like that. That's what I wanted my small business to be like. But this putrid fucking recession! Quit smoking. 43 days. You're goddam right I'm proud--not just anyone, that's for sure! Yeah my kid's joining the army. Can't stop him. I bought him season's tickets to the Donut Holes his whole damn life. Sure they ain't no Kan-zass Cit-tee Roy-als, but they play some sure as shit baseball, that's all I know. He hit that girl last summer, and things ain't been working out for him ever since. Yeah, sure I told him to...
In hindsight, the solution was obvious. That was Holmes' skill. His "parlour trick" as some victims had described it. I'd seen his leaps of faith, inspired deductions and uncanny conclusions many times. And yet the inevitable unlocking of the puzzle was always obscured from me until Sherlock lifted the veil of smoke from his beloved pipe.
Sometimes it took more than one pipe. Sometimes as many as three. In this case, the unstated conundrum set by his brother, Mycroft, had consumed five refills. It might have broken new ground, but the tobacco slipper had been returned empty to its customary...
2070. Je regarde par la fenêtre. Les douze coups viennent de sonner à l'horloge. Sur la place, dehors, des petits chalets de toile sont montés, et regorgent de victuailles et de boissons pour les fêtards. La foule se presse, danse au son des violons, et s'embrasse et s'embrasse pour se souhaiter la bonne année.
Je tends la main vers la petite table, j'attrape mon bol de tisane et le porte à mes lèvres. Ma main tremble, ses veines sont saillantes et sa peau fripée. Les tâches qui la parsèment sont le décompte des années.
2070, le monde n'a pas changé....
That part of New York was home to several artisan outlets and small, incubated, cottage industries. Rather like a hipster vision of battery farmed chickens, Wilhelm noted. Right next door to his bakery - Purveyor of the Finest Home-Baked Goods* (* all dietary requirements catered for) - he was aware dimly of a bespoke micro brewery, although no liquor of any kind had passed his ancestor shudderingly German lips in over forty years. Wilhelm didn't approve of alcohol. Not for a long time, though he had once courted the hop and the grape until their avoidable, but probably inevitable divorce....
"But why are there cracks?"
"Each of them is a single stone."
"Where do the stones come from?"
"Stones are made by the Earth. These stones..."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why does the Earth make stones?"
"Time and pressure."
"Not how. Why?"
"I don't know. But these stones are shaped by people."
"Why?"
"To pave the road."
"Why?"
"So we can walk on it."
"That stone is broken."
"It will be replaced."
"They have more stones?"
"They will make more."
"What if they don't?"
"What if they don't what?"
"What if they don't make more?"
"They will make more."
"But what...
We made a little church of our own when we promised to marry. You asked me when I barely understood how to love you, and I'd been innocent so long that I think the moment you told me you loved me you became ever more desperate to snap me up. Three days after the initial declaration came the proposal. I ran away from you and hid.
You're a terrible boy. Everyone says so. I'd heard the talk since the beginning of time and I'd seen the queue of sobbing girls you left behind you. And yet.... you told me loved...
The gate closed behind them. It was too late, she knew it. How did they get here? Why did it have to end this way?
"Jamie, it's okay. They won't find us here."
She wanted to believe him. She tried to believe him. She couldn't. They corner they hid in was dark, damp, dirty. She didn't have to wait long.
As the latch opened on the outside gate, Sean starting shaking. He can't handle this, Jamie thought.
"We're going to die, aren't we?" he asked.
Jamie considered lying, but what would be the point? She put her arms around him...