I was not interested in the small poster in his hand. My eyes were on his face. He was the one I had been searching for. Member of that cult, the one that took my daughter away from me. He might have just been an innocent new recruit like she had been all those years ago but the hatred in my heart didn't care. He represented evil and someone had to pay.
I walked over and pretended to be interested in what he had to offer. He explained the organisation would give me peace of mind if I signed up...
You can count me out.
You can count me out.
How many times do I have to say it? Count me out of your scheme. I have no desire for riches, fame, or even immortality. Just life.
That's all I want. Just to live my life. My peaceful, ordinary life. And the only way I can do that is for you to count me out of this.
I wish you'd make the same choice, but as things stand, you had a good life.
Well, a decent life.
Oh, who am I kidding? When you meet Beelzebub, try not to give...
Karen, Jersey girl extraordinaire, departed Manhattan for the left coast two years ago. She'd brought her big hair and big dreams.
After slim pickings and several waitressing gigs she knew that she'd arrived. Finally a part she could be proud of. She was playing the new mom on "I didn't know I was pregnant."
Giving in wasn't an option. She - he'd not had time to ask her name - had wept, pleaded, then finally agreed. Shuddering, the way he'd imagined a suicide would cutting his own wrist, she'd - Hell, he should ask her name at least - placed the unpinned grenades one at a time behind his back.
The release levers successfully pinned between spine and the plastic that had separated driver from passengers, he felt their edges anew as he extended his arms to push against the bus's folding doors.
"Good girl. Get upstairs. When it's safe. When they're all gone....
I have always been a walker. Not a wanderer - that is what I sometimes hear them calling me now. No, I have always been a hiker. Someone who flings a rucksack on their back and dons big boots - leather ones are best, although you do have to work hard to keep them soft and supple. Dubbin is the answer. I used to have some once. Wonder what I did with it. Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. I have always been a walker and, believe me, I've done some of the hardest and most challenging walks in the...
The beam swept across the water. The waves glistened in the darkness, tiny bumps of light in front of the tall tower. Her eyes had been scanning the glistening waters ever since the sun had set and she had realised his boat was not moored at the jetty with the others. Guy and Tom had walked along its wooden boards, dropped their eyes and tugged their caps when they'd seen her, but they'd made no mention of him. She'd almost called out after them, asked them where he was, but stopped herself before the his name could push itself from...
"Oh! Captian, can I help you with something?"
I groan inwardly. Dana is the new flight attendant, and a horrible flirt. She looks at me and pushes a clump of short blonde curls away from her eyes. I smile politely.
"Oh-no, I just need to use the, uh, lavatory."
Her eyes spark. She puts her hand on my wrist.
"Here, I'll show you where it is."
Seriously?! This plane is not that big and even if it were, I'm the PILOT. I sigh and remove her from my arm.
"That's fine I'll find it on my own..." I slide my...
Leaving was the easiest decision to make, and the hardest action to take. Nobody knows until they've been in those shoes.
"If he hit me, I'd hit him back!" scoffed one colleague.
"It should never happen twice." said my mum.
I know they mean well. I hope they do, but it's not so easy, is it? I mean, I've read the stats. More women are killed after leaving their abusive partner. I suppose its something to do with regaining power or something. Isn't everything about power. Being the top dog. I didn't want to be another number. A statistic to...
The pistol was cocked, ready to go. The young man stared down at the gun which was now locked and loaded, closing his eyes and taking several long breaths before looking over to where his older and more seasoned counterpart had been standing.
"We're going to die, aren't we," the young man commented, the hand holding the pistol starting to shake as his older counterpart exhaled heavily.
"We're all going to die someday," he mused in return. "So what if today is our day."
The young man sighed and looked back down at the gun in his hands. "I don't...
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...