Wine. Specifically, white. She hated white wine. She wanted red. The buzzing warm feeling was building. Building the way it had when she'd been inside the LHC doing maintenance. No one knew she'd been there. No one could explain how she'd survived. Then in a blink, she hadn't been. That was when she realised something Quantum had happened.
She perceived a reality where the waiter had gotten the wrong bottle from the shelf, picking red instead of the sought for white. He'd lose his job later that day for continued disobedience. His wife would commit suicide in four months, when...
- I opened my eyes to see where I was.
- I could only see black.
- Everywhere I turned, I would see nothing.
- I shook my head to see if it would dissapear.
- I began to see little bits each time I shook my head.
- I saw glass bang smack in front of me, But for some reason I was so frustrated so I punched a whole through the glass.
- That is when I saw things that I did not know before...
- My mum she died at the age of 36, she gave birth...
It was enjoyable, this feeling. And so unaccustomed! He had come to a place in his life where so little really made him happy anymore. Leaving the store, though, despite the fact that it was a cloudy, cool day, he felt sunny on the inside. He had bought a new shirt, and he was wearing it - he decided to put it on right away, before he had even left the store. It was green - but a certain shade of green that he didn't see very often. It was his favorite color, and it had called out to him....
She sat with her feet upon the wall. He looked at her, "You seem nervous." She stayed silent. He took out his camera and took a picture. "You know, you look like Dorothy, with those on." She sighed, "When's the last time you've seen the Wizard of Oz?" He looked down. She's never been the same since her parents died. Her father was a firefighter, but he didn't die of a fire. Neither did her mother. They died of a car. A car with one passenger. One intoxicated passenger. He went up to her and whispered, "I know it hurts."...
She moved through my dreams in the silver slippers of moonlight. I shivered. It seemed as though something had touched me. I could hear the early morning mist slip off the slumbering streets...my bones shuddered and I longed in those lucid moments for warmth.
Did you breath? I felt a soft air cross my cheeks as I struggled against the frostiness cast by being in the limbo between sleeping and waking. Touch me! Touch me! make me come alive again, don't let me drift into cold darkness.
Sunlight drove hard through the window and fell on my cheek...is it your...
The city was empty. That was the only remarkable thing about it. Its streets weren't paved with gold, it's shops sold the usual junk, it had poor districts and upper class suburbs.
The interesting thing was, the streets were empty, the shops had no employees and no customers and it's housing housed nothing. No one was there.
Well... there was one person there, there must have been, or how else could I be telling you this right now? Huh? Didn't think of that did you?
oh... right... CCTV... yeah, good point... sorry.
Absent. That's what I was called by my fifteen year old daughter. The absent father. She did not know the truth, I worked undercover. Danger. Security. Empathy. Love. I had it all but I had nothing for my own family. That isn't true, I thought about them in the spare moments, pulled up images in my mind. Reflected on those special times tucking Beth into bed while she slept, unaware I'd be staring at her, a light in the hall illuminating her face.
I knew Beth thought I didn't care. I know because that's how I felt about my own...
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. Angela wasn't your typical wallflower. Every so often someone would, for a brief moment, catch a glimpse of another world in her twinkling eye, or see into the hidden realms in the cornered smile of her lip.
Then either she or they would notice the unexpected revelation and it would vanish from sight and thought, and Angela would be plain old Angie. Small, quiet, of no consequence.
Of course that's not how she saw things, if "saw" was the right word. What Angela perceived, every day in fact, for everyone she...
"I really think you should use photos."
She gave me a sidelong glance. "You don't like these?"
"No, no. I'm not saying that. You did manage to capture a certain energy in their faces. Artistically, it's quite well done."
"Thanks, I think so."
"It just that..." I made sure to look away as I spoke so she couldn't stop me in my tracks with another glare.
"What?" I heard her say.
"It just that they're your children." Turned to her.
"I know," she beamed maternally.
"And..they're missing."
"I certainly miss them. That's why I drew this picture."
"And it's a...
Prompt: Lola
“Who’s for another?” it came out as one word. Jack knew it and hid the knowledge with busy bustle. He wove towards the bar with a half-dozen empty glasses and the promise of help when he was served, but that detail was forgotten as Emily spoke in her soft voice.
“Does anybody here know the library?”
“Not since school,” was one answer. “Not old enough yet,” was another.” I have the internet at home,” said a third. I didn’t want Emily to lose interest in the face of such flippancy, so I tried to help.
“I go sometimes,”...