She looked fondly out the window at him. he was lying in the grass with his eyes closed, enjoying the many priviledges of life. She wondered if he knew about what was happening to his kin. they had somehow been kidnapped from their comfortable life with her sister and carried off to somewhere. Zeke rose his head for just a moment to check that his aaa was still there. the little blanket had been wrapped around him when he'd been rescued. She shut the blinds, an imagined Zeke dreaming about running around with his brother
The conversation lasted two words: Why now? The blank stare that met Angela's question was all the answer she needed. The time didn't matter, it never mattered. All that he was concerned about now was getting to the engine room.
Without looking back, she spun swiftly on her heel and stormed across the deck to the lift, already standing open, waiting for her. This was the day they had been waiting for, and she would be damned if she would allow something so trivial as a fleeting moment of emotion overcome her and destroy all that she had trained for....
The conversation lasted two words.
At least, by the computer's definition of 'word'. That was definitely the source of the bug.
The conversation lasted two words:
"Please?"
"No."
Afterwards, Katy wondered if she and Daddy had actually been talking about the same thing or not. Maybe he thought she still wanted to have ponies at her birthday party. Didn't he know she had gotten over that already? Or maybe he figured she was asking for a sip of that grown-up drink he had been holding.
She resolved to sort things out. That evening, when he arrived home from work, Katy shuffled meekly into the kitchen and said, "Daddy..."
"No," he replied brusquely. But his eyes said something different.
Embolded, Katy blurted...
Green.
Colour of greed, colour of money, mostly.
Apartheid is long gone, but the mind of the elders (my parents) still fondly rememeber that history where advancements were meaningful and plenty. A time where the "whites ruled the land" and "the country was better for it".
Completely oblivious to their historical visit I brought myself to watch news beside my father and had a stingy comment to make on the concerns of some Western Cape citizens that feel threatened by "the freedom of of all citizens to apply for jobs and be transfered across the country unconditionally". Sounds silly to...
(Author's Note: To read Part 1, follow this link: http://sixminutestory.com/stories/somewhere-better.)
Green.
All around her was greenery, stretching beyond the horizons, undulating and flowing. If she had ever been outside the confines of the busy city, she might have compared it to endless fields of gently waving, emerald green wheat.
The city. Where had the city gone?! She had been there just a moment ago... Hadn't she?
She liked the city. At least, she thought she did. It was familiar. It was comfortable. It was scary at times, and intimidating, but it was a fear she *knew*, one she had always...
"It's meant to get better."
He looked at the empty glass in front of him, studied the bottom, as if it was going to promise him that it would get better.
It didn't. It also didn't refill itself.
"It will."
He glanced up - of course, he could, at least, rely on his best friend.
Well. One of them. Since the other one had -
That glass was still empty. That could cause a problem.
"She's still gone."
"That isn't going to change."
This paticular best friend may prove to be useless - oh, no, wait, he was hailing the...
"But I like green."
"You would. Green is a very you colour." She waved her hand, apparently indicating his shirt. "You look good in green."
He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Do I?"
She ignored it, ignored her cheeks going pink - there was no point to this line of conversation, she was not going to think about it.
Except that he did look good in green, very good. Something about dark hair and dark green and those eyes -
"I just don't think green is a good colour for a rug. I don't think it'll go in the living room....
Green.
Not particularly cosy and warm during dinner when all are bundled up on the sofas watching tv with the woes of work peering through the keyhole of the door tightly shut.
Nor tranquil and soothing in the morning as you slump through the pale blue bathroom with your body and mind working aggressively against the inevitable routine that will discharge all the energy you gained during last night's rest.
It conveys less about passion and adventure for love and life than the vivid red that somehow decided to reside the kitchen walls to remind everyone that your life mostly...
Green bows were her signature hair accessory. Abby, with her fiery red, curly hair, always had a green bow. Her grandmother thought it was special to represent her Irish heritage, her mom thought it was a phase. Last year, when Abby was 8, she wore rain boots wherever she went. The green bows were just "a thing."
In school, though, the bows didn't go over so well with the other kids. Abby was teased for always wearing them, gettin called names for looking the same everyday. Bonnie was a mean girl at Abby's school, and ripped Abby's favorite green bow...