Twist. Turn. Dip. Sweep. All at once, the winds around the ship changed, shifting from a violent storm to a soft breeze. The black plumage of his Tengu Fan remained stock straight, even with the skilled hand moving it with jarring grace to manipulate the winds around them. They crew had all seen the man at work at least once before, but always it was a sight of awe. Not many on the high seas could willingly sail through a tempest and come out of it completely unscathed.
After the tribulation had passed, and the skies parted above into clear...
Waves. The sound was the first thing she noticed. She had to be somewhere near the ocean. She took a moment to register her immediate situation. Her right hand grasped a jutting piece of rock, and her left held tight to a thick branch that had somehow taken root in the cliff face. Her feet rested on a narrow ledge of rock that was no more than a few inches. She was thankful for her small feet, which her mother used to say were her best attribute.
She had to be at least 20 feet up. The ocean was too...
She didn't look at him; she looked past him, half closing her eyes as if basking in the sunlight. She was really trying to cut him from her vision altogether, the better to scry into the future he was pulling them towards. This had been his idea, his romantic idea: "Let's hire one of those rowing boats and take it down the river."
The top of his head dipped in and out of her frame of vision as he pulled them through the water.
"Tell me if I'm going to hit anything," he panted. "I can't see where I'm going."...
The medicine man had always talked about the circle of life that continues unbroken like the circling stars in the heavens, but Mousaf had never been very religious. His village was small, but he was happy with what he had - the woven cloak on his back given to him by his long dead mother, the cello his brother had given him before the accident, and the breath in his lungs. What more could he possibly want?
So Mousaf made his living as the ancient bards had, traveling from village to village. His voice may not have captured hearts, but...
So. Where do I go from here? He's left me. High and pregnantly dry. Where's a Wal-Mart. No. Kidding,. I saw that dumb movie. Really, jump through a window? Keep track of what I use? I'd rather not, if it's all the same with you.
I'm not, if you are wondering, intending to keep this kid. I'm not one of those stupid girls who don't know they're knocked up, the ones that scream for days in a bathroom before the thing drops into a toilet.
They'll help me get rid of it. Someone will. Some do gooder will help me...
Green cover holds me. Oak Tree stands guard behind me. Sun warms me. Stream sings me to sleep. Sleep meets with Dream and carries me into the depths of Imagination where everything is what nothing ever was or will be.
There was a little girl who loved a boy. It was her first time with a crush on a boy. It was her first time with love. This little girl was my sister, so I tried to explain to her that she was too young to love. She wouldn't listen. She loved her "boyfriend" too much.
One day, I took her to preschool. She ran over to a boy tried to give him a hug and a kiss. He pushed her to the ground. "Don't talk to me, you Wussy Wimp!" he shouted.
I ran over to her to help...
2070. Man enters final stages of the information age! The shortest technological age of human history. With the global bandwidth of each home computer reaching a collective average of 1GB per-second, cell phones capable of literally recording an entire persons life, from womb-to-tomb, and neural implants giving humans longevity and superior thinking processes. The information age, though a short yet potent time, is nearing it's end. Soon we will be entering the space age. With the completion of the atmospheric tower, which will eliminate the need for rocket propulsion in order to leave our beautiful planet.
There were times like that, where even if it was something relatively mundane, he could stare long and hard at it and still have no clue what it was. Sometimes it worried him. One, it meant his vision was probably steadily worsening. Two, that he would imagine up something else in the place of an everyday object did not bode well for arguing his sanity. On the other hand, he could just say that meant he was ten-fold more creative than the average person.
A lot of the times he managed to draw up something quite unsettling though, and it...
Finally. Mom would be pissed, dad will be furious, and well, Auntie Selah will have a martini in my honor.
Perfect for me? Good family? Education, potential, background of a presidents son, check.
But he totally does not give a shit about what is most important to me. He refuses to accept my reasoning that animals are here for their own purposes and are not for consumption, entertainment, or anything else. I am VEGAN. He is cruel enough to smile through dinners, arguing with me that this is all very temporary and that as soon as we are married he'll...