There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
Honestly, it's quite off-putting. He's just standing there... staring. Always. I tried staring back to try and get him to push off. But it backfired horribly. He smiled at me. Not just any smile, either. He made it the worst smile ever. His face was just the wrong set for a smile.
In fact, everything was wrong about him. His head was oddly shaped, like a rock bashed against a wall. His arms were thin and spindly, threatening to snap off in the gentle breeze of my fan. His chest was...
Light shone through the gap in the thick black curtains. I could see people sitting round the table in candlelight holding hands. I knew what they would be thinking, hoping, that the spirits would speak to the woman sitting at the head of the long table. I could easily imagine their desperation, hope, excitement.
Cassandra had been an actress before she took on this role, this deceit which gave her more money and adultation than ever before. These gullible grieving people wrote out checks without ever hearing a message, they just wanted to know someone cared, listened to their hesitant...
Photoshoot for bikinis in the middle of winter in a snow covered backdrop was usually my worst dread. Today, however, I was glad because word reached us that our studio blew up after a group of teenage boys decided to experiment with chemicals using a translated foreign magazine. Disaster!
That night huddled in the nearby bar, drinking mulled cider we all said thankful prayers for our good fortune. Jessica, normally the drama queen, shivered and hugged Milly the girl she most hated in the world, or so she had always thought. Today we all grew up.
Starving to be slim...
There was blood on my pillow. "Oh, snap." i said. so last night wasn't really a dream, then. i actually did it. oh, well, that changes things entirely, then, doesn't it? He's really... crap."i held it... i-i did it." i said to no one in particular. i looked at my palm. it was still wet and sticky with blood. Not my blood. Honestly, did you really... no. his blood. I turn over, and with a jolt, realize the knife is sitting on my bedside table. my stomach heaved. i swung my legs out of bed and grabbed the knife, shuddering...
the birds on the telephone line have heard me talking
the birds on the power line have felt me typing
one bird two bird
the wind that bristles the oily feathers
the light off the moon through the black air
have all heard me
I can't remember what I've said
I've said so much
but the crows
I hear
don't forget a thing.
She could tell I was faking it. My smile felt wrong, though no one else knew. She knew. A glance at the priest standing before us revealed that he was none the wiser to my feelings. But she could tell, I know she could. She stood there, hands grasping mine, tears shining in her eyes, a wide grin stretched across her face. Was she faking it, too? I was panicked this morning, knowing that I was to be married in a few hours. Maybe she felt the same. My calm facade got me through the waiting, but I was nervous...
Pollution is an artist
and poison is a poet
Death is the brightest of colors
Noise is the sweetest song
Pollution won a grant
and poison won a fellowship
We're meeting for drinks downtown
to celebrate their well-deserved
recognition.
"Please, just let me on!"
"Sorry sir, but we have regulations."
"Regulations? I am a citizen of the US. I served my country, and this is how my county serves me. I am looked down upon while leather and aftershave walks past me. Hundreds spent on a single meal for two, yet I collect cans and tips to buy a single meal from the arches at night. I try to get a job, but I have no address, no phone number. I am stuck because of your regulations. And does help come? No, the ones who do good - our...
The sounds of the protest reverberated through the streets. Police on horseback formed walls, blocking the side streets, helicopters hovered overhead. The crowd pulsed and moved like blood in the veins. We held placards and shouted in time. People banged on drums and pots and pans and clapped their hands. Sirens wailed on either side.
Steel gates were pulled down or across the glass of storefronts. The media had terrified the small business owners and that terrified the public and then screamed about how we need to be stopped.
The fact they missed the point wasn't important. The fact they...
"Good night," the bar manager said, as he tapped a stack of bills on their side to even them out. The waitress dumped another pile of crumpled bills, coins and receipts on his desk.
"Good as any other," she said. The manager paused in his count and looked up from beneath a heavy forehead.
"Something wrong sweetie," he asked.
"No," she said and left the office, heading back to the front. The manager watched her walk away, thinking about what her ass looked like twenty years ago, and smiling to himself. He finished counting the money she'd dumped and dropped...