The gate closed behind them with a soft click. They crept along the grass, still wet from the afternoon rain, to the french doors. No lights were lit on this side of the house.
They stopped at the door and reached for the knob.
"He was supposed to leave it unlocked," one voice said behind a ski mask.
"Try the other one," another ski mask said.
The other knob turned and the door swung open, into an office. One wall was an inset bookshelf. And the second ski mask whispered she'd always wanted one of those.
"Marry a doctor, like...
"Birds are terrifying because they used to be dinosaurs and they are just waiting for us humans to stop remembering that fact. Waiting for us to turn our back. And then, just when we think we're safe, BAAAAMMM! All those cute little sparrows and robins and doves turn into raptors and shit - but now they can fly too, so there is nowhere safe. Seagullsaurus will shit on us and then swoop down and gobble us up as we stand there, freaking out about getting shat on.
"Imagine all the pigeons in cities growing razor sharp fangs and an unquenchable...
We're not familiar with the same weather or same temperatures. I don't know the blazing heat of the desert. You've never felt the deep wet cold of the Atlantic states. And then there's the sun and the moon, and the underside of the asteroid grazing our comfort zone.
We could sing country songs in the backyard tonight. It'll be cold, but dry, and Venus is near the moon.
We'll begin at dusk. My dusk, your dusk, and the dusk of deserts, dusk of satellites. Hot dusk, chilling dusk.
Dusk, dusk.
The city was empty and so was she. There was an echo in the quiet streets and an echo in her ear. She had heard this sound before--this sound of nothingness--and it reminded her of something. That vacancy. It made her think of her marriage. That was the sound of her marriage, that emptiness. She felt comfortable in that sound. Above her a streetlight snapped on with an almost audible sound. She could hear the click or maybe just imagine it. The electricity lines opening, sending current to that one lamppost so that it could shine with its weak light....
The city was empty and so was she. There was an echo in the quiet streets and an echo in her ear. She had heard this sound before--this sound of nothingness--and it reminded her of something. That vacancy. It made her think of her marriage. That was the sound of her marriage, that emptiness. She felt comfortable in that sound. Above her a streetlight snapped on with an almost audible sound. She could hear the click or maybe just imagine it. The electricity lines opening, sending current to that one lamppost so that it could shine with its weak light....
Swing with me friend. Come on to the cosmic dance floor of life and death, and dance. There are things there that can only be seen on the dance floor. The things you'll see there are both magical and yet still very plain once you get used to it you may say how can anyone get use to it well my friend I am Death and I've been here a long time now. Let's dance now and you can Live for a while longer. Swing friend Swing.
The constant clicking of the camera's shutter was the only sound in the studio for a full fifteen seconds until the photographer sighed in frustration and lowered the Nikon. "Honey, you're not making this easy on me. I need more steam, more heat, more 'you know you want what I'm selling' attitude."
Tugging at the unbuttoned plaid shirt that had been rolled up and tied just below her breasts, the woman in front of the camera tipped back the cowboy hat she was wearing and blew at an errant strand of hair that had fallen across her brow. "What exactly...
Emotions are tricky things. They are the things that fill us with that warm, semtimental feeling that we get in our chest while our hearts are busy taking picture so as never to forget the beauty of a moment. That emotion we might call love. They are the pounding of blood running pushing its way through our ears, sweat streaming down cheeks, and our breathing heavy and laboured. That emotion could be named fear. They are also heaviness that seeps through our body after a long day of disappointment and getting nothing done. This is discouragement. But emotions, good or...
People seem to think that just because my sister and I are identical twins that we are exactly alike in absolutely everything. That is SO not true. If I want to watch a movie, she wants to read a book. If she wants to wear her hair up, I want mine down. If I want to paint the walls blue she wants green. And on and on the list of our differences goes. We don't seem to agree on much but even so, my sister is my best friend. We DO agree that its fun to switch places and live...
her bedroom wall was a collage of every valentine's day card, folded secret note, doodles, drawings, things her friends had written before their father's got a job in another city and moved. Streamers, deflated balloons, pressed leaves, plastic flowers, candy wrappers, subway, bus and concert ticket stubs. Polaroid pictures and regular rectangle pictures and pretty much anything else a teenage girl might come across in her lifetime of movement.
The detective went over every piece thumb-tacked, taped or stuck to the wall, writing in his little notebook.
"Usually they just run away for a few days," he said. "Then they...