One hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Sterling. Sitting on her dresser, in tight little wads of cash. One hundred and eighty thousand pounds is a lot of money. Hell, before today, one thousand was the absolute maximum I had seen in any one place at one time, and that was in the hands of Stu, the dealer, and he was just flashing it around to show off. One hundred eighty thousand? It damn near crowded everything else off the dresser. And she was just, what, going to leave it there?
"Where's this from?" I asked.
"You know where it's from."...
Green. Indubitably so. A vast expanse if it, spreading out to the horizon. Different shades breaking it up into sections. Lush, vibrant, light squares surrounded by dark borders.
I started running. Tearing through the blissful countryside, wind passing through my hair. I was free at last. Free to do anything I wanted.
I vaulted over a hedge, the chains on my feet ploughing the top. Faint sounds of barking came from far behind me. They were coming for me. Gotta go faster.
I found a road, hopped a fence over onto it and headed down the side, keeping my head...
"Josh, I'm leaving." She felt the tears burning behind her eyes as she spoke. A look of hurt, confusion, and concern began to etch lines into his forehead as he stood.
"What do you mean, you're leaving? Where are you going? Why?"
"You know why I'm leaving. I can't just stand by and watch everything from my old life die away while they try to rebel against the things your family are doing to them! I can't be here while my life is with them." The confusion and hurt vanished from Josh's face, but the concern remained, softening his grey...
My name is Sal. I work in a box factory in Manhattan. When I first got here, this city seemed sane to me. Now -- I'm not so sure.
A woman walked into my office the other day wanting records of her company's invoices. She was stunning. I offered her coffee while she waited for me to look up the records, and we really hit it off.
Her name was Darla. I asked her to dinner that night and, much to my delight, she accepted.
We met at a cozy little Italian place for wine and pasta. Things went...
Janet said it was good to write to Santa, so that he knows what to bring on Christmas Day. I did do it once before, but Daddy took the letter and later, it was in tiny pieces in the bin. I told him Santa won't know what I want, and he slapped me hard on my face and told me to get him another beer or there wouldn't be any bloody Christmas.
Janet says this Christmas will be different from all of the rest, because Santa always comes to her house and I sleep here now. Janet says I can...
It was hard to be in the elegant room, trying not to move while the crowd swarm around him. George stifled a sigh. If he wasn't getting the eight dollars an hour, he wouldn't have put up with the gawking crowds.
All he had to do was stand still for thirty minutes at a time, dressed as Napoleon. Simple, mindless, perfect job for George. No heavy lifting, no math, nothing that should have embarrassed him. But the crowds, God they were enough for him to scream.
"Who's that?" a snot nosed little girl asked a man, that hopefully was her...
Baby, it's just one of those things. You dream of hexagons and get triangles. You hope for a bit of moonshine on your paperback and a black cloud splits her in two.
You concentrate on windows and carbon paper and a pigeon drops dead on the ledge. It's not the city or the suburbs. It's just everything.
Me? I work in a cubicle. That's the shape I'm in.
The giant knelt, and threaded the palm trees through his fingers. Lifted his hand slowly, snapping the thinner branches, but not the strongest, fruit baring limbs. He cupped the six or seven coconuts he pulled free and shook them.
The giant's thumb flicked the coconuts into his mouth one at a time. The shells crunched weakly between his teeth.
He finished his handful and set about feeling around the tips of the trees for another. A monkey watched him and sat there trying to figure out a way to profit from this situation, without
The angel wasn't at all what I expected. Jeans and hoodies weren't the kind of thing Divine Messagers should wear. And squeamish of spiders too!! He jumped up when the large hairy creature walked over his white trainers, I only noticed because I happened to drop my cell phone at that precise moment. As soon as he looked down he screamed as though all of hell was after him and leapt in the air.
John told me that he was getting therapy for his phobia and had been relegated to ordinary duty by his heavenly master, nothing spectacular for him...
She'd been a good wife. Comely and passionate, even through bearing 6 children (4 of whom survived) and I'd only strayed but once.
Of course she had known straight away, but had nodded; she wasn't perfect either. But while I loved her, and she me, we'd understood. No one can bear everything alone. And some loads were the cause of each other.
I'd known she had gazed upon others with a lusty eye. To be honest, I wasn't as philosophical as she; fierce jealous rage had filled me with hypocrisy. I learned a valuable lesson in self-delusion, but maybe not...