Drudgery of the everyday. There's really nothing else to explain it. Banality of sadism. John, standing at the dump, Alka Seltzer pill wrapped in a piece of bologna for the birds. Has he ever thought what a bird might feel while its innards explode? That's not really the point. He wants to know if it can work. If he can leave a wake of destruction with nothing but everyday objects.
He watches the bird gulp down the bologna and retake flight. He sees it hesitate, and pop, it falls from the air, guts hanging out of its mouth.
Adam, working...
One foot in front of the other. He had to keep going. There was no turning back.
They almost caught up with him several times. In the woods he'd tripped over a branch, sprawled, and felt their hot breath on his back just before he kicked off and escaped. Now he was in the clear, wide open spaces of the school's football field. No obstructions in his path. No cover or refuge in sight.
On foot in front of the other. If he could just keep running for another mile or so, he could make it to the church where...
She could tell I was faking it. She can always tell when I'm faking it. Something about the way my eyelids droop slightly, the way I chew at my bottom lip before I talk.
"It looks lovely."
"It doesn't. You're lying." Somehow, she always knows.
"Okay, it doesn't. It's a hideous dress. But you do. You always look lovely."
"Creep." She smiles, and swats at me with the scarf she's about to wrap around her shoulders instead of a coat.
I love the way she looks when she gets ready. How she frowns at the mirror when she puts on...
I was not going to give him the satisfaction of see me cry. I wasn’t going to beg or cry. Somehow, a blindfold was better. This routine of binding and blindfolding me before torturing me had been going on for days...maybe even weeks. It was best that I didn’t see what was coming. I didn’t want to look at him either and I didn’t want him to see the tears or fear in my eyes.
And he was at it again. The kicks and punches....it was almost like clockwork. I switched off completely. There was no point in screaming and...
One left, one right. Two by two, on and on, ad infinitum.
No one has ever had any doubt about Johnny's prowess. The man has a fucking PhD in horticulture, and all without a day of instruction or a minute of in-class study. A natural, they said.
The trick was in the wrist. A little dip-and-flick, and they soar into the dirt with just enough force.
A master seeds-man, with few adversaries.
Damn 'munks don't know how to take a hint.
Bury them he did, but sometimes the little cretins would stumble upon the treasure troves and gobble the pre-germinated...
Wine, a girls best friend. Here she was,party in full swing, glass in perfectly manicured hand,playing the good-time girl role to perfection . Giddy and rosy cheeked they laughed until their jaws ached.
She did her usual party gags and the all girls were in stitches. Dressed to kill with glossy chestnut hair that fell effortlessy around her designer clad shoulders, how they envied her life- young, free and single.
Time to go home now.Air-kissed cheeks and hugs exhancged,they left full of promise of the next girls night in.
She closed the door as the last guest left and stood...
I'm fine
No really.
Really really!
I'm not being aggressive.
NO, I'm NOT!
I am NOT shouting.
I'm perfectly Ok. O… K…
I'm Fiiiiiinnnnneeee.
Yes
Yes
No, it's not…
No
NO!
Look. I'm fine, Oh…Kay! It's all good. Absolutely great.
Best ever. Brilliant. Bendi (bloody) gedig!
No, I'm not swearing now. That's Welsh.
No not the middle.
Yes, I know 'bloody' is a swear word. Oh God!
I am really, Really, REALLY Ok.
Yes.
Yes , really.
Yes, he was. I know that now
…
Ok… maybe I'm not…
It was a dark night, full of mist in the air ad puddles reflecting the orange light of lamps that lined the long cobbled streets. Marcelle was waiting for a visitor on the rooftop of the Goyer building, one of the tallest in the owrld. Had anyone been awake in the city, they would have thought him a suicide. Footsteps rang out on therooftop surface and Marcelle turned slowly, keeping his collar up against the wind. It was a woman. "I didn`t expect them to send the lousiest spy in the world." she said. It was Bev, the woman who...
In the little house, Brigid waited for the big lady to leave. She wanted peace, and the special sound of wind when no one was around. Kneeling people interrupted the woosh of air that made her forgetful. Kneeling people made her remember everything about praying and wanting things outside her little house. This was a House for Not Praying, for Not Wanting. But all these big people came. A miracle had happened here and she couldn't get rid of them. The gravel she laid out specially over what had been soft grass cut into their old knees and young knees...
The gate closed behind them. No one knew what was in store for them. There was a collective sigh as people resignedly turned their heads this way and that, trying to get their bearings. All the panic and fear and questions had been exhausted on the two hour train ride to this place. Sam wasn't sure what "this place" was but he knew it was no good. He heard chains being wound on the outside of the door. Definitely no good. He heard a padlock click into place.
They'd all been rounded up the night before. Some snatched from beds,...