Walking briskly through the grey tainted forest, beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, gaining momentum before they trickled down his sullen face. The pale moon was high in the sky, befriending twinkling stars that seemed to swirl around whenever he tried to find consolation in their presence. From far away, an owl hooted into the night.
He didn't have a hand to hold. Lost, yet not lost, he was confused. Knowing who he was, what year it was, and where he was were all facts that he had down. But he wasn't sure of his exact location. Then again,...
I fumbled about with my phone, waiting. She was going to be late, but I was always early. Damn nature and nurture. Or is it nurture and nature? What the hell, man. Concentrate.
She went to Northern Illinois. She got a degree in English and is currently working as a barista. God, what a stereotype.
It's ok, get out of your comfort zone.
Ok, I think that's her. Is that her? No, no. The picture of her didn't look like that. I am way too overdressed for this place.
And I hate tea. Why did I get tea? Should I...
I remember sitting there, minding my own business. The wind was a slightly moving napkins about the table. In frustration, I put my glass on the stack to keep it from dancing in the breeze.
As I sitting, waiting for Charles to arrive for our lunch, she walked by.
It was a fleeting moment, to say the least. But my slouched pose suddenly corrected itself. I was no longer concerned with the wind or its affect on napkins.
She was crossing the street, coming toward the cafe. She was wearing a red summer dress, and it being an August evening,...
Just put it away, I don't want to play.
Come on.
Not now.
Come on, we're just sitting here waiting. You know it'll take forever for them to get back to us.
Okay, fine.
All right, who invented the hot air balloon?
I did.
No, the Montgolfier Brothers.
Well...
Listen, if you're gonna answer "me" for every question, it's not gonna be fun.
It's not fun.
You're a real drag.
I'm just having an off day. Let's sit in silence.
Let's try another question.
Fine.
What is next week's winning lottery number?
That's it. I've got to go.
Oh, come...
The conversation lasted only two words, for the rest there was no need to speak, her reprochful glance told the rest of the story. My apologetic eyes. Her anger and humiliation.
Two words:
"I can't"
It had started six months ago at work, She was beautiful in an understated way. Graceful and classy, and increadably sexy.
It started with the eyes, the longing glances, long before any words were spoken. It ended here, in this hotel room.
After months of planning, trying to get a weekend away, the same time off work without arousing suspision, from either of our spouses....
It was cold, and soulless. It was mechanical, drunken and above all else it was heartbreaking.
I couldn't beleive it when I saw him in the crowd after all these years. The proverbial one who got away. It was even less imaginable that he would be the one to reach out to hold my hand, that he would be the one to pull me into his arms just as our song began to play.
The tickets for this concert cost a fortune, I had stayed up all night just to get through on the phone. I had brought a date...
The fabric of the space-time continuum collapsed, and Oda Komawichi Sabicho Ichikagu was transported from his home in feudal Japan onto a train going from Pittsburgh to Newark.
Needless to say, Oda was quite confused, as were the 11 passengers of the train. One moment, this group of noble commuters, business men, and nephews visiting their aunts were minding their own business, the next a 13th century samurai warrior was in their presence. This a tricky thing.
Oda's first instinct was to, naturally, slice each of the strange looking white passengers. He clutched his katana in anticipation, waiting for the...
It was him. even now my breath drew short as I thought about it, all the things he used to do, all the million little ways that he would never let anything go, every little rumer that he spread or whisper behind my back.
Richard Delany had just walked into my board room. Mine.
I saw him look up and I know that he recognised me, I wished that I had chosen to wear the stilettos this morning instead of the practical comfortable shoes that are my fail safe whenever I know I am going to be in long meetings...
She was beautiful, her hair fell in raven waves down to the small of her back, there was a crimson ribbon taming it. She wore a long skirt and a half corset over a white sleeveless blouse, the srimson was the only colour she wore, everything else was dull greys and browns.
He was furious, how could they twist his words this way, corrupt what he wrote. It was his story, it was supposed to be new and revolutionary but all he got was the same tired cliche, over and over again. So much for modern reinterpretation.
So much for...
It's always late at night that it hits you. Just as you're about to go to sleep, you're about to actually give in to the quilt, to the mattress, and the darkness, your mind is going to release, and then -
Sometimes it's a welcome thought. Sometimes it's useful, helps you get things finished in time, or it's a great idea you need to put down. Sometimes.
Rarely.
Sometimes it's mostly neutral, and it's just getting rid of it that counts.
Sometimes.
Most of the time, though? It's one of those haunting thoughts. One of the ones you don't know...