The hunter followed, exposing himself. Edwin noted his height and confident stride. Their battle would be violent and difficult; but only if the hunter could catch him first.
As soon as he cleared the crowd at the train station he broke into a run, dashing past street vendors and through alleyways, zig-zagging across the city in an attempt to lose his pursuer.
After ten minutes, he paused at the mouth of an alley, leaning over to catch his breath. At the other end, a car went by ... then another ... then the hunter's silhouette appeared again. Slowly and deliberately,...
He exited the train at Buenos Aires, and was glad to leave the station with its oppressive heat and even worse humidity. He eagerly sought fresh air, but was disappointed; the air conditioning in the station might have been primitive, but it was better than the heat of the blazing sun.
Despite his best efforts, he shivered uncontrollably. "I need a damn drink!" he muttered, and turned in search of a bar. He entered the first one he came to, and slumped at a table, calling for a beer, which the bar tender brought to him reluctantly, though his attitude...
She'd always come running when I called. I couldn't resist her blonde hair and silky skin, or the fact she was always willing to sleep with me on summer and winter breaks from school. I'd come over in the morning; sometimes she had just woken up. We'd go up to her room, with lime-colored walls and rainbow-striped sheets. Entangled, entranced, and full of ecstasy. She'd get me a glass of water after we kissed after sleeping together. I hid my bike behind her house in case her mom came home unexpectedly. Our first time she was 15, and I was...
She'd always come running when I called. I could have called her to come get a splinter out of my hand, to help me with my homework, to get me out from the tree in my backyard, or just so I could see her smiling face for hours as we talked. I was so use to this that the idea that some day she wouldn't come running when I called never even crossed my mind. I loved her with every single particle that made up my body.
At this exact moment though the only thought I could think was that...
She'd always come running when I called, my little sister.
She was three years younger than I was, but to her, I was big brother, father, and something close to God. I kept her and our little brother safe from our mother, I tutored her in math when she realized it wasn't her best subject, I bought them both little cupcakes for their birthdays when we all knew Mother couldn't be bothered with spending money on anything other than booze, and I'm the one who broke down and went to the principal for free lunches when they joined me in...
She'd always come running when I called.
It didn't matter what it was, she always came. At first, it was out of gratitude, I had taken her off the streets, gave her a home, food and clothes, but lately, I've been re-thinking my position. I couldn't be considered her guardian, for she was about the same age as me. She wasn't my lover, for our relationship rarely went beyond providing her with what she needed, while the rest of the time she rested, healing from her injuries. But I found myself, awake at night, asking myself when I'd be rewarded,...
It's easiest to appreciate simple beauty when you are surrounded by desolation.
Peace had finally settled over the dusty streets, and the small unit of American soldiers let their guns droop, looking up the hill at the kids who had cautiously come out of hiding to wander the streets once more, seeking their friends just as the soldiers reunited with their brothers in arms under a leafy tree. One adorned with freshly bloomed pink flowers.
A soldier smiled as he looked at the plants. Long gone was the time where it had been considered unmanly to like flowers. Pretty pink...
I knew that I could rely on her. No matter what the task, no matter how impossible the time frame or the scope of the task involved, she would get it done as quickly as humanly possible, and generally with a smile on her face, although sometimes she could look a little harrassed when I told her things needed to be done immediately. Producing 175 photocopies of a document which needed to be physically taken to six different areas all within 45 minutes and still whilst answering the phone and dealing with enquirers had been a little bit unreasonable, I...
She stood on the crest of the largest sand dune, her hair streaming in the fierce breeze that had sprung up overnight. The view was stunning, overlooking dunes, common, sea, beach and surrounding cliffs, with the odd lighthouse visible on the distant coastline.
"I have had enough !" she screamed into the wind. "All the constant miserable bickering, the backbiting, the barbed comments, the selfishness, the grumbling under the breath and slamming of doors. I am not going to put up with it any more!" Having vented her anger and frustration, she walked slowly back home, wondering what she was...
Kenya. She said her name was Kenya.
And then she laughed. I couldn't hear it, not over the music in the bar, not over the shouting of everyone around us. But I saw the laugh, starting in her stomach, and traveling up and out of her mouth.
She leaned closer and said that her parents had grown up with Black Power and Africa awareness, and decided to name her Kenya. That they had grounded her the first time she straightened her hair.
Her voice, the part of her voice I could hear, had a huskiness to it that really appealed...