We waited for the curtain to go down, some patiently and obliviously to the palpable tension between Fran and I. Once again she'd tried to force me to go into the final act without the correct props. Once again she'd sabotaged, or rather tried to sabotage my costume. But I wouldn't be held back. I was going to upstage her no matter that my backside was revealed to the entire audience. She thought I wouldn't turn and face her? Apparently she was unaware of my tenacity and forgot that I'd seen her in action before. To that end, so to...
Heating nothing as I refrigerate.
Eating nothing as my body preserves.
We eat and are ultimately eaten.
Preheated, chilled and given to grubs.
We are products for sightless feeders.
Put a tag on me and ship me in a box.
Deliver me to the earth, to be opened up.
Reclined, collapsed, softened and served.
This oven of nothing is heated anyway.
I stare at the flames to assert my intention.
I am alive for now. For now.
The fields were parched. There was no water. Where was the rain, she wondered as she stared across the cracked land. There were clouds rolling in from the east but they brought no hope of rain. The stream that used to run through here had been clear and sweet, she remembered. Sighing, she turned from the depressing sight and got back to preparing the evening meal. Jim and the boys would be home soon and they would be hungry after a long day in the fields.
"I can help you." A small voice said.
She jumped and looked around in...
Rip Van Winkle was a story that I never understood. How could a man that slept for forty years in a forest, aging all the while, just waltz back into town and have such and unremarkable story? Imagine having an absolutely perfect memory of the incidents, the setting and the culture of a time before this. I've always loved history, so I guess I'm just gushing out of a personal fetish, but if I was to lock myself away for years and come out of it, I would like to think that someone would really appreciate my particular knowledge.
Walking...
"I can't sleep with her next to me," I'd protested.
And, predictably, Elsa had looked wounded and said, "Love me, love my cat."
So I loved her cat. I mean, how could I not?
And a few days later:
"I can't sleep with the TV on," I said. "I'm sorry. I've tried."
"Okay, Julie," said Elsa reasonably. "That's fair."
And she turned the TV off, even though that got her to sleep quickets.
And a few days later:
"I can't sleep," I said. "It's just a thing. Go back to bed."
And she looked at me, and then she went...
"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...
The Moon would never be the same again.
Sure, nothing important in its construction had changed. It was still the same old mass of rock hanging on an ever-decaying orbit around the larger mass of rock that we call home. But it was different.
Maybe the giant structure unfolding on its surface had something to do with it.
This mission had taken years to even green-light, never mind anything else. But now, we were here. Standing on the moon, with a base. It wasn't anything special, though. We were heading to Mars with a similar base the next week.
But...
Potatoes.
Kept in the cellar in a woven sack. My pillow for the last three weeks since Grandpa decided I was too bad to live with the rest of them.
Not that I did anything wrong by normal people's standards.
Grandpa was funny in the head. Grandma was scared of him so went along with his punishments for us kids, and took a beating herself too.
Life was hard for her. Grandpa had a way that could make himself look like a regular person when he met other folks. No-one knew what was really going on in our home.
The...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. His hair is dark. He just stands there watching. I call out to him asking his name, but he doesn't reply. He just stares.
A can't take my eyes off of him. I stand there too, staring at him. Our deep eyes meet and a chill flashes down my spine. As I gaze into the windows to his soul, my breathing quickens as does my heart beat. Here we are, two different entities separated only by the distance of a metre or so. I can't describe the deep dread I feel...
It's here somewhere.
How did we lose it in the first place? I don't dare say it out loud, because they'll blame me.
We've been at this for hours and still we haven't found it.
I was told to put it someplace safe. Someplace it wouldn't be lost.
But I did. Well, maybe not technically, more like made it impossible to get to. How was I supposed to know they were going to pick this up and ship it out overseas as donations. I blame my crazy Aunt Ida, that woman has a bad habit of promising things to the...